I've got nothing

It's not often I have nothing to say, but this is one of those moments. While things are swirling around me:
• we're smack in the middle of Hanukkah
• we're heading out of town next week and there's endless organizing to do
• as usual homework and chores are out of control and I should be working some grand plan out
• Iz and Jack are arguing about how bright their nightlight should be . . . still/again

there are things I could be doing:
• finish knitting my mom's birthday present
• clean my desk
• write holiday cards to the people who work in my building
• work on the FLOW projects I keep making for myself
• help Jon make dinner
• design a line of merch for Iz's middle school
• update FLOW's website

and plans I could debate:
• going to Target at 8 tomorrow morning to buy a salad spinner, paper goods for Jack's class party
• should I invite my brother or sister to go
• would the one not invited be insulted so should I ask both
• how many nights in a row can I handle going out to dinner
• should I get a pedicure tomorrow or call Heather for coffee

or thoughts I could ponder:
• does Jack need rainboots or will snow boots suffice
• who's going to cave and throw away the last dregs of Thanksgiving still in the fridge
• does Iz need a fancy dress for the trip
• how will I survive a painful dinner with my in-laws
• co-author angst
• I'm not following this health care thing but know I should be
• I shouldn't be eating so much sugar
• which yoga classes can I fit in during the rest of the week
• will NPR ever book us or has that died a slow death
• how do I get a form to work on my website

I'm really far more comfortable watching the twitter wall go by, waiting for an auction to end on ebay, and letting my mind be still. I think this qualifies as pathetic meditation. And I'm thinking that's not such a terrible thing.