Staring at the Ceiling Fan

I've been here, thinking, pondering, running errands, cutting grass, avoiding housework, taking children on field trips and attending elementary school award ceremonies, welcoming my sister and her little family back home from halfway across the nation (a joyous event, especially since her 8 month old daughter has taken a liking to yanking on my hair and staring at me in perplexed amusement when we're together), eating anything that crosses my path, washing storm windows, chauffering my grandmother, attending a wedding shower, struggling to post something--anything--on the messageboards for which I moderate and/or to post something here, working on a new poem, and staying up into the wee hours playing computer games in a desperate (and unsuccessful) attempt to turn my brain off or at least exaust it into giving me some peace. No deal.

What I want is to lie on the floor in a cool, dim room and stare at a ceiling fan for a few days. What I want is to be perfectly still without the constant background "noise" of restlessness, that pushing, guilt-inducing mental patter that incessantly steals every moment of peace and rest that might be possible. Why, praytell, does the human brain not come equipped with an off switch? !