Hot Dog Hats for the Feminine Soul

I have been immersed in the world of editing, which has come to a screeching halt. Conchata is sick again, but this time it's only my editing software that's affected. I put in a call to the Mac Man (crossing my fingers that he'll let me pay him in hugs) and am now officially puttering to counteract the concern that is seeping into all my tissues.

Puttering, in case you didn't know, is essential to the feminine consciousness. We operate in a state of what has been referred to as "diffuse awareness," which means that we are aware of many things at any one given time.

To give an example, right now, my mind is jumping between these things at a break-neck pace:
-Editing for a friend
-Editing for my personal project
-My Halloween costume, and exactly how much I should "glow"
-My messy kitchen counter
-My dwindling monetary resources
-Which songs I should sing at karaoke
-The fact that I haven't eaten for awhile
-The beckoning laundry
-My man's belt buckle
-My sister's boy problems
-Whether or not the whole family will reunite for Christmas

The list goes on. Women's minds zap from one subject to another at every moment of consciousness. Keep in mind that we're thinking this while using our hands to integrate even more thoughts into the mix. I am typing, refluffing my hair, moisturizing, answering the phone, proofreading, listening to the Cosby show on TV, and biting my lip all while writing this blog! Gents, this is why sometimes the things that come out of our mouths make no sense. There's a lot happening in this oh-so-ladylike package.

Anyway, puttering is a result of this awareness. Items in our household actually have voices, telling us to "Finish completing me for work!" or "Move me over here to improve the feng shui of the room!" So we putter. We flit from thing to thing, like a graceful task-completing hummingbird, polinating some things and ignoring others, then moving to another flower entirely before the job is even done.

It can be frustrating being a woman.

Anyway, I feel like my writing even needs puttering today. I want to tell you about the shoe rack I purchased today for less than 10 dollars from Ikea (that is filling the Treehouse with a lovely cedar smell), and the confusion I felt when I discovered something for sale called "glow dust" on the internet that apparently is the key ingredient for glowy paint?...oh! And I almost forgot to tell you that I saw a hat today that consisted of a snug-fitting pillbox hat with a lovely, plush hot dog perched regally on top of it. With both ketchup and mustard, if you must know.

I am rejoicing in my inability to focus today, because it is what my womany soul needs. I am not getting crap done, thanks to my hinky Final Cut, and I'm not accomplishing much anywhere else, but dammit, I am successful at being a chick.

femme. g