Doing nothing

I am looking eviction in the eye, yes?

If I am not tidying up I should be packing, no?

I can do fuck all. I survey the mess around me and I can do nothing; not throw away old newspaper supplements, nor put files in order, nor whoop my son into a game of 'who can fill the bin bag quickest."

I sit on the sofa redundant, listening to an 80's shuffle on VH1.

In denial?

There's mince in the fridge. I should cook something. Yes. Cook. Do something.

This was written in my notebook before being transposed onto blogspot. My son was actually on the computer at the time.

If ever the powers that be want to crucify me for writing this blog, let it be known I write because I do not want to go under. I do not want to die.

What do you do when you can't do anything?