The Assistant.

I would pay good money for an assistant.

She wouldn’t have to be like the well-dressed intern, screwing up Starbucks orders we see in the movies.

Nope.

She, or he, or they would be just your average human, eager to help, with ball-point pen at the ready.

Let’s call her Violet.

And in all sincerity and simplicity, Violet would help me keep my shit straight, yo.

. . .

She’d organize my day into neat, responsible rows of task-trekking.

walking a mile around the neighborhood; developing plot lines; organizing baby clothes; power-napping; reading current events from reliable sources; sending hand-written notes to loved ones; emailing; painting; snuggling.

She’d have it all organized, and appropriately paced. She’d remind me to stop and drink some ice water, or coffee, or both. She’d put extra shelves in the closets and batteries in the smoke alarm and remind me to cover my hands in cream before bed.

Violet would not be a housekeeper, but a keeper of time; she’d be the internal clock I rely on but inevitably ignore.

The day has started.

Eyes are open.

And there are many-a-thing to be done.

What will we accomplish, dear Violet?

. . .

SnapDragon is a teacher, artist, mom, and possible number one fan of the egg & cheese sandwich.

Follow her Two-Bit Musings and more on Snippets of SnapDragon, yo.