Tuesday, March 15, 2011

I took this picture from an ad in the subway the other day because it reminds me a lot of my general countenance as of late. I am trying to be cheerful and appreciative of all the good in my life. Really.

But I'm not. I'm an angry, baggy-eyed, gimpy-armed bird.

I'm back in Texas for the week. I have meetings, research and so much writing to do. B is very sick with a high fever and no appetite whatsoever. Grandma is deep into chemo. Everyone is generally unhappy and on edge. It's not the most pleasant environment, nor the most conducive to writing the meatiest part of my thesis... which was due today. I should probably talk to someone. I think I'm dealing with like 18 stages of grief and 25 level of stress right now. Not to mention all the hormones and biopsies and general lack of sleep and diet monitoring. My face has puffed up and my body feels unhappy. Being a dancer puts you super in tune with your body, which makes it feel even worse when it's out of shape. I suppose of all the things I've lost, I haven't lost that. 

I need to conquer right now. First this paper, then everything else. I've buried my face in Splinter's belly at least a dozen times, listened to B sing, laid in the grass -- all the things that make me happy. I've read my books and listened to Chopin and let my fingers fly. But I can't write. All I can think about is the fact that I am trying to teach my son things that I don't know yet, that my family is disappointed, that I have so much work to do before my body is ready to dance again, that I haven't followed through or met a deadline in weeks. That I have hardly stopped to think about Japan once since I found out my sister and friends (in Hawaii) were okay. I'm displeased with myself, to say the least. Today I painted all 10 fingernails twice and removed the paint both times before it had even dried. Priorities? I don't know. I'm ashamed to admit just how heavily I'm employing distraction right now to avoid dealing with things. I'm considering this post my cold glass of water to the face.

Taso and Swinny both told me to channel all these feelings into my writing. So I blog. That's a start, right? No, not really. As soon as I publish this I will go back to the five pages of nonsense I have written and try to turn it into six pages of brilliance coherence. I may deeply resent being in Texas right now, but there are a couple things here that I love more than life itself, and I have to succeed for them, if nothing else. One of them even let me photograph her for your enjoyment. Thank you, darling, wonderful people (and kitty) who tolerate and even love me when I'm a grumpy bird. I hope I don't let any of you down.

1 comment:

  1. I love my angry, baggy-eyed, gimpy-armed bird.

    I'd come and distract you or verbally kick your butt if I weren't sick and caring for children. HOPing (see what I did there?)you can at least get through this week with your health in tact, if nothing else.

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