This week’s RR is brought to you by books–actual, tangible, smellable, hardbound books. ‘Cause I went to the library this week. And we’re off:

From the introduction to Eats, Shoots & Leaves by Lynne Truss: “Part of one’s despair, of course, is that the world cares nothing for the little shocks endured by the sensitive stickler. While we look in horror at a badly punctuated sign, the world carries on around us, blind to our plight. We are like the little boy in The Sixth Sense who can see dead people, except that we can see dead punctuation.” I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve read this book. I feel like it was written by my soulmate. It’s glorious.

From a book that makes me alternately sad, mad, and in awe of both the native beauty of my home state and the blindness of profit-seeking developers to that beauty: “Florida is for sale, has been for a while now, and it makes me sad as hell. I’ll stay as long as I can, but one day soon it will all go: the marsh wrens and the butterflies, the cactus and blackberry vines, the old Cracker house, the feeling. And I wonder if the hawk should ever come back, just on a random flyover one day, singing its high, sweet whistle way up in the sky, if anyone here where this dirt street once was will even remember the kind of bird he is, or care enough to stop, just for a moment, and smile.” (Losing it All to Sprawl: How Progress Ate My Cracker Landscape, by Bill Belleville) Check out his blog.

Tune in next week…maybe I’ll read a newspaper!

Thought my readers (all three of you) might get a kick out of this blast from the past. Dig how I’m wearing a jumper with nothing under it?! That’s right, half of my torso was exposed. What can I say–I was a saucy kid. My hair is not this blond anymore.

I’m happy to report that I’m making progress on my resolutions for easing the overwhelmedness. Successes: declined an offer to participate in (yet another) local craft market this coming Saturday, and I could not be more excited about having a real weekend (fingers crossed that I get some jewelry supplies in the mail by then). Lunch breaks taken this week: two (one at the library). And today I’m teaching a coworker how to crochet on our lunch break. I’ve also spent at least a few minutes reading every day this week. All small steps, but they’re making a difference. Oh, and I’m getting an actual haircut at an actual salon next week! (I got a coupon.) I haven’t had my hair cut by anyone other than myself in about 6 years, but I’ve been in quite a hair funk lately, so it seems like a good time to call in reinforcements. Stay tuned to this space next Thursday for pictures of either my new fabulous ‘do or my new fabulous paper bag. Anything could happen.

Oh, and happy Earth Day! If you haven’t seen it yet, you should read this compelling and thought-provoking article from The Storque.

I finally came up the perfect (handmade) promotional item! It incorporates my designs, it’s functional, cute, and inexpensive. Ta-da!

I scanned some of my stitched notecards and printed parts of the designs on cardstock, which I then used as the covers for these little single-signature booklets (Littleput Books has a great tutorial on making these), perfect for jotting down a phone number, a short shopping list, a quick note-to-self. They’re about the size of a business card, and I printed my URL on the back. I plan to give these out like I would a business card at craft shows, and include them (with business cards, too) when I ship orders. And I’m putting them in these adorable little envelopes (which I purchased from Schoollocker on Etsy–she has TONS of great supplies for all kinds of projects). I decorated the envelopes with a fern stamp.

So, whatcha think? I’d love to hear what you use for promotional giveaways, too.

After texting him yesterday afternoon that I was having a bummer of a day, I came home to a hot bath being run (complete with lavender bath salts from JillianSays–mmmm), a cold beer in a frosted mug, and a quesadilla dinner on the stove. Oh, and snuggles.

Be jealous. Be very, very jealous.

(Reading Roundup is a semi-regular feature in which I share tasty bits of writing I’ve found.)

From My Pocket: Never tell your winter coat farewell, or April will play tricks on you. This one rings especially true to me this week, considering that Saturday we had 80-degree temps and since then it’s been 40-degree nights and 60-ish daytimes with a side of “very windy.” Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

Poet David Wojahn: We too often commit the hubris of thinking our desires can be gratified, or that gratifying them is going to give us the consolation we feel we need. These longings may prompt us to creative activity, and I guess the displacement of those longings is much of what poetry is about.

That’s all I’ve got today, kids. Whew. I don’t mind telling you that it’s been a hectic couple of weeks in Avenueland (I just made that up and I’m not sure why; apparently my life is now something like a theme park). You might remember I was trying to slow down and smell the roses last week, enjoy the moment, etc., and I was actually able to do just that–for one short day. It was lovely. But the very next day it was back to full-speed-ahead and I feel like I’ve barely stopped to breathe since. Between work (at which I feel seriously unfocused and only marginally productive), two hours of commuting per day, evening obligations (fun ones, to be sure, but they still contribute to my feeling of being stretched thin), a perpetual lack of sleep, a jam-packed weekend schedule, and attempting to plan for some major changes on the horizon, I can’t escape my feeling that not only are there too few hours in the day, but my energy and strength are utterly insufficient for everything I’m tasked with. And I still don’t have time or energy for the things I really want to do, like read, write, or make stuff!

And it’s wearing on me, guys. It really is. To the point that I considered backing out of a craft fair that I’d already paid a $100, non-refundable vendor fee for. Yeah. I’m almost ready to pay $100 for a true day of rest. Sheesh. I’m too young to feel like this.

SO. Because I am a woman of action, and can’t stand to simply describe a problem without also trying to remedy it, here are a few of my resolutions for decompressing: 1) I will not make any further weekend commitments in April or May unless it is something I genuinely want to do and which will bring only fun–not stress–into my life. Period. 2) Instead of watching the morning news while I eat my breakfast, I will spend the time reading for pleasure (this means a real book or magazine, not a blog or website). 3) I will start actually taking lunch breaks at work, instead of spending them at my desk. This means physically leaving the office (I’m so bad about this one). 4) I will make a concerted effort to focus on the here-and-now emotionally and mentally. This is a big deal! I have such a tendency to devote most of my headspace to the future, which means worrying about and trying to control things which aren’t even certain, not to mention being less-than-present in the present.

It’s a start, I think. It’s good for me to articulate actual steps and actions I can take to change the way I feel. ‘Cause Lord knows it won’t just miraculously happen on its own. And bitching and moaning about how it’s “everyone else’s” fault that I’m too busy for my own good is just completely counter-productive. And, I might add, untrue. So thanks for listening to my little feelings-fest, dear Internets, if you made it all the way through. I doubt these struggles are that unique, and I’m curious how other folks deal with this issue. How do you juggle the various obligations of your life? What do you do to decompress or relax? It’s always nice to know you’re in good company, even when you’re not in a good place.

In other news: trying not to over-analyze the fact that I just clipped a coupon…for a liquor store.

I just love the encouraging tone of it. Why yes, I would like to leave unnecessary experiences behind! Thanks for suggesting it! Seriously, how can I be mad that something this cheerful snuck past my job’s semi-ineffective junk mail filters?

*That’s unsolicited e-mail, not canned meat.