too much to do

sometimes i wonder what it would be like if i could wake up one morning and have dimensionally displaced my house somewhere else. i could do anything in my house - but not go outside or bring anything in. i think i would opt for a dimension that allowed trash to be expelled from the residence. and an internet connection would be nice for reference, but no email and the phone could most CERTAINLY be discarded. the lights and the heat and the appliances would all work, but outside the front door would be a nothingness.

i wonder to myself how long it would be before i even really got interested in re-dimensioning my life? food could be an issue after a while, but you know, there's LOTS of food in my house. it would last a long time. and all the books i've meant to read, and all the papers i've meant to sort, and the crochet and knitting projects i've started and not finished. i might even finish writing the paper on "Water Symbolism in The Lord of the Rings". and i'd finish the CD proceddings from my food conference, and even pub the last ish of my newsletter. with an occasional dimensional food delivery, i find it very comforting to think about years and years worth of nothing new. what would it actually be like to catch up on projects and plans? to watch the DVDs and videos stacked beside my TV? to read the books i'm wanting to, and to make toss-away piles of the ones that i realize i really am not interested in pursuing. to actually put everything in order and know where everything is.

i fantasize a kind of cozy post-holocaust life where everything else stops and i just go on (safely and quietly) with no one to bother me and nothing to turn my attention away from my activities. perhaps in a dozen years or so some intrepid explorer through the dimensional suburbs would find me quietly puttering along and ask "what happened? we thought everything here was gone! how did you survive?" and i'd just make another cup of tea and say "i have no idea, i've been quite busy."