Passed by the tempting post on my reader listing 5 reasons sleeping in the nude is good for you. No oatmeal this morning, either, just a coffee and the last of my J from last night. Thought for sure I’d have hunger when I woke up. I only had a bowl of soup and a roll for dinner.
Guess I’m zooming a bit. Sleep isn’t too bad, tho I keep waking up and looking at the clock to see if it’s a respectable hour to get my ass out of bed and start the day. Problem is, I can’t focus on anything.
My list of stories sits accusingly on my desktop. I tried moving to music yesterday to unplug the drain and just farted around for a bit and then stopped. No great melody, no clearing up that drain so I can get to the flow. Not sure what I need to do right now to get it going. It’s like an itch I can’t reach…
I keep hearing the mantra ‘there’s too little time’ in my head. Too little time before my quiet time in the morning is interrupted. Too little time in the afternoon to really work on music. Too little time in the frigging swimming pool. I am greedy today. Bring me Doctor Who; I need the flipping TARDIS so I have enough time, please. And yet…And yet, I still dawdle. I still sit and play games when I want to be doing other things. I’m pressuring myself this morning and I have NO idea why.
There is a dastardly evil question out there, complete with twirling mustache and sniggering dog: What have you done lately? It’s the LATELY I’ve really got a problem with. Define LATELY for me, please. It’s so goddamn vague you’ll never get a definite answer. Have a memory of someone asking me that at a job; I quit on the spot. This was AFTER me listing what I’d done for the company, including rooting out and correcting an $8000 discrepancy in the company records (it was a small company). Since that asshole said it to me I’ve never been able to get it out of my head. It negates everything I’ve ever done. EVERYTHING. Because my head will keep bringing up the ‘lately’: Great that you wrote the stories THREE WEEKS ago. What have you done lately? Great that you got the music you’d written A YEAR AGO out of the studio. What have you done lately? See what a motherfucker that one is?
Okay, Head, I’ll TELL you what I’ve done lately.
LATELY I’ve been juggling my blogging, which I do almost every damned day, and life in general. My body is still healing, Head. I’m not exactly sure what you think we’re supposed to fucking be doing when the body can’t do more than 6 hours before it’s ready to drop over. And you’re discounting all the fucking OTHER work that goes along with creation. Don’t give me that ‘what have you done lately’ when the JOB has been to LISTEN to my tracks. I’ve been listening, asshole. I know exactly what you’re holding back, Head. You want to accuse me for not working hard on Dutch. That’s what you’re not saying, isn’t it? Our Dutch helper is coming back today and you’re fucking EMBARRASSED to admit you haven’t even TRIED to learn a new word or two. Right? Admit it!
Yes, great embarrassment and personal shame. But that’s one more way for me to beat myself up, right? I’m moving ahead with my plans, working on my stuff, even exercising well and watching what I’m eating so I CAN’T fault myself for that. Gee, what CAN I nag myself over? Oh, yeah! I’m still an idiot with this language. THERE we go! Yeah, fool, learn the damn language overnight, why don’t you?
Well, that pretty much diffused THAT.
Back to wanting Doctor Who and the TARDIS so I can take advantage of the translation matrix. *sigh* I’d really like to travel with the Doctor. Of course, I’d be one of those companions who dies right away. Can’t run with the RA, and the Doctor does love to run. The bad guys would get me every time ’cause I can’t move fast enough. Daleks? Exterminated. Cyber-men? Dead or converted (frankly, I don’t think they’d want me). Anything that shoots would shoot me. Anything that absorbs would absorb me. It would be a brief companionship, that’s for sure.
I must be wanting a deus ex machina in my life if I’m thinking so much about Doctor Who. And of course I am. I play the lotto every week and dream a little dream. I wish for a magic pill to take my RA away. I want to put in one day of hard exercise and be the svelte me.
Keep scanning my brain for evidence that I can make the long haul. Put in the time and commitment for whatever it is: writing, music, language. And you know what? I AM in this for the long haul. It’s my frigging LIFE here. THAT’S the long haul. Not these inconsequential projects I keep myself busy with.
Reset, reset, reset. I just hit a button somewhere in my brain. Pressure is easing off. Small matters are becoming small matters again. Yes, I’m still embarrassed to be at such a rudimentary stage with Dutch. I’m also still unschooled and deep into fashioning my own language into interesting stories. So let’s see. I’ve been here just over a year. I’m a one year old baby in Dutch. I can make myself understood pretty well and I can understand a bit in return. That’s better than most one year old babies, so I’s be ok.
mmHMM. Line them ducks up today, I’m just shootin’ ’em dead eye down. Lack of self esteem? POW. Body image? BANG. Writer’s block? KA-PING.
I think I’m standing at the unusual crossroads of being in control today. Complete control over myself, my emotions, my actions and reactions. Weird. My head isn’t screaming or whispering anything….complete silence. I’m watching a storm come in from the west, which would usually spark quite a bit of poetic imagery. All I see is darkness against the light, the stark outlines of the buildings against the black sky, the whip of the trees as the wind moves in. *ironic laugh* And right now, with the light just SO, those storm clouds are taking on a deep blue color. The deep blue of a box stolen by an old man.
The Doctor has arrived.