A. Today felt unfrockingbelievably unproductive. I know everybody is still just coming off vacay, so I sort of have an excuse, but this raises a dilemma of whether I should have taken a few days off so I wouldn't feel so burnt-out now, or done what I did and kept trying to get work done for most of last week (except the one day I was out sick with laryngitis - a mute lawyer is a useless lawyer) so as to not suffer major courtus interruptus in my workflow. Probably the latter was the best option, as even the 2 1/2 day "break" I took for New Year's knocked me off track more than I like. I would like to be able to stay home when I feel like I'm not going to get anything done anyway, and my boss is the nicest person in the world about granting days off, but at the same time I feel like I should be in the office in case stuff happens, which it usually does, and besides I'll only have this gig for a year and I don't want to miss anything.
B. Must remind self that change is incremental. I go through these phases where I want to "improve" everything in my life at once (Fitter! Happier! More Productive!!) and get flushtrated 'cuz change doesn't work that fast. You'd think I'd be one of those people who periodically cuts my hair different shapes and changes the color and swaps piercings in and out and throws out my wardrobe in favor of a brand new look, but I'm not and I don't. I guess always looking sorta the same is my way of either conserving energy for the Important changes, or holding onto that Same Ol' G part o' me that's "gonna keep my doo rag on". (I confess that song does make me cry. Seriously.)
C. Speaking of crying over songs... I seriously need to make more of an effort to distance myself from the HeeBeeGBVBees online camps where I've been lurking and killing time far too much. Not only is this neither a particularly useful nor even interesting activity for me any more, but also the level of beer-sodden sports-team-metaphor emotionalism triggered by the Final Tour frankly disturbs me. I've always felt like that band had a bigger problem than most with ppl feeling/exploiting some personal connection to the music or musicians that, from a practical standpoint, struck me as either largely nonexistent or rather unhealthy for all concerned, and too much of that vibe has been oozing out of the woodwork lately. Obviously my statements do not refer to those who actually Have a Real Personal Bond by way of being family or longtime RL friends or "O.G.'s" (Official Girlfriends) of said band, nor to workers in the "band organization"; expressions and emotions from that camp are both expected and understandable. But those parties aside, I freely admit that I don't grok the whole concept of people past about age 25 bawling like babies when their fave band calls it a day. I'm not saying you're supposed to give up on music and take up painting your aluminum siding, but unless you really truly were their personal hang-out-buddy, or some true tragedy a la Dimebag Darrell occurred, I'm gonna look at you funny when you get all choked up. Just my 2 cents.
D. I started doing needlework again today after something like oh, 7 years. To understand why I am so proudly announcing this, you need to know that I have been carrying around this skein of half-done schtuff in various bags and suitcases of mine all over the country, possibly the world, for literally months, wanting to get back to it but just not able to sit still and get my mind and hands around it. Well, a couple days ago I finally got to that calm point where I took it out and looked at the pattern, realized I'd forgotten the stitches, made a point of reminding myself to go online and look up the stitches in the stitch guide and print them out and put them with the pattern, took the whole thing out and looked at it again for a while trying to figure out just what the hell was going on with it and where i left off, and stared at it for about a half hour feeling really hopeless, and bumbled around with the implements a bit, and THEN SUDDENLY IT ALL JUST CAME BACK TO ME - I guess I accessed the brain cell that had the how-to stored away - and I started to go at it again like billy-o. I write this to illustrate my previous "incremental" point and how it takes me a long time to work up to doing something, even (Especially!) something relatively Small and Stupid. Because the big stuff will get done first off the queue because I'll MAKE myself do that because it HAS to get done, whereas the little, enjoyable stuff that makes Life Worth Living will fall by the wayside for far too long. I've loved, and been loved, and lain awake nights, and slain dragons!! all to get to the point where I can happily make that stitch agayne, just like when I was a little girl, with fewer "issues" (I was truly a happy and generally unworried childe till Puberty set in and ruined it).
I think it's so funny that my mom "taught" me how to do needlework without actually teaching me - she showed me a few things like knots and buttons and chains but the rest I just sorta picked up. She also "taught" me to read kinda the same way. The funny part is that I love both of those activities and have spent a huge percentage of my life's relaxation time doing them, whereas my mom loses interest/gets frustrated, doesn't really enjoy either activity, and would rather go out and do something social. She only read to me because children should be read to and I liked it, and she only took up needlecrafts because there was nothing else to do during those endless required trips to Nebraska to visit her mom-in-law who was into that stuff.
There's been a lot going on in my head for a very long while, and now it needs to come out through my hands. I need to make that connection, plug that internal plug in the right socket and let the electricity flow.
E. While I'm at it, fuck school and the whole competitive scene right in the ear. I'm done worrying about THAT too. I never wanted to be part of it in the first place, the world forced me to, and from here on out it's going to be all about making it disappear again. 'Cuz I think it's ridiculous. It reminds me of the easter egg "hunt" at Lakewood Park when I was little, that was a big free-for-all rout of little kids rushing to get eggs that weren't even hidden for goshsakes, just laying in the grass, and while the other kids were racing around like maniacs I just happened to stumble right over a plastic egg and it turned out to be a Winning Egg and they gave me a big chocolate bunny that melted before I got it out of the park much less out of the box, but on the way out we met my schoolmates Eileen and Colleen and not only did they not get a big chocolate bunny, or even a little chocolate bunny, but they didn't even get eggs! Looking back, that made about as much sense as every other reward system in life.
F. So later I might make a container for my string out of an old CDR spindle and catch up on reading the briefs I didn't get read today. Thrilling, no? ;)
Now I have cats to launder. Gotta hop.