She’s quite clever, and shows up in a variety of forms. Just when I gather myself to perform some daunting task, like cleaning windows or paying bills, she pops up in front of me with an alluring or pseudo urgent distraction, and off I go in another direction. The distraction could be as simple as playing a favorite jazz piece, catching up on the news, delving into the cereal cupboard for a light snack, calling my sister just to chat. Or birdsong. Or a hangnail. She’s endlessly imaginative in her approach.
Sometimes she comes in the guise of my significant other.
“Rose, we’re out of my special cookies.”
“Have you seen my coffee thermos?”
“Now where did my screwdriver go? It was just here.” Did it grow legs and walk away? I mumble to myself. I can’t help but wonder.
But actually, Minutiae relieves me of taking hold of what I really want to avoid. So I’m mostly thankful for her. It’s just that at the end of the day, that closet is still crammed with jetsam and flotsam. But after all, I did have a lovely time catching up with my sister. And the Miles Davis piece was exquisite. So maybe Minutiae’s distractions should be the real priorities in my life. That closet can probably wait until tomorrow.
