End of the Month Spaces
This is where I’m at, today. I truly have lost a month; some things happened, but little got done.
Already today I’ve fed and walked the dogs (jeez, it’s mid-afternoon, so I’d hoped you have gotten off your ass at least that far!), had my own breakfast – and walked all around Spring Lake in Annadel Park, at a fairly brisk pace, for an hour and a half. But then I came back and turned on the computer. End of that story.
I’ve kept statistics on both my SPADES and SOLITAIRE Challenge games, but that’s not getting anything actually accomplished.
2014.0226.12:51 Wednesday, supposed to be at Wayne’s, but he’s on his own.
Which Classic Writer are you:
Virginia Woolf: “You’re not daunted by women who are brilliant but emotionally fragile. On the contrary, you’re selfless and kind enough to want to really nurture someone and support their illustrious career. Yours is a truly deep love because it is a love of the mind, and it will surpass all the hours.”
Take the test for yourself: http://www.buzzfeed.com/dianabruk/which-classic-author-is-your-soulmate
But it seems I am drawn to men who are brilliant but emotionally fragile, with a love that surpasses all the years. And maybe because, essentially, that is what I am myself, except for the “brilliant” part. If I were, I would be productive, but I’m not; so I must not be. Simple as pie.
That is actually an insight of the first order; that I am drawn to what I am, which is fragile at heart. Once, on Fire Island – I may be repeating myself, but like Sam Clemens in Mark Twain’s autobiography, bear with me – I met this guy, and we spent the evening on the beach – talking mostly, I think he went off before anything happened. He described me as having an internal a core of steel encased in a crystal shell; and once the crystal shatters, all that remains is the steel core, until a new shell develops.
And each time, in my relationships, it reached a point where the crystal shell wouldn’t grow back, the steel core remained, as did I; except with the alcoholic. He didn’t pass away, he failed the question – do you want vodka, or do you want me? He wanted vodka, and that’s ultimately what he got.
And the comparison goes deeper. When you realize that Virginia essentially had a nervous breakdown after each one of her major works, including the last – from which she felt she would not, this time, recover – I understand the sensation very well. The difference is I was never able to push myself to the breaking point, break through “the wall” as it were, to produce something I would be proud to have others read. I wanted to be an actor because I wanted to touch people as I had been touched; I wanted to give back what I had received when I was so in need. I was so out of touch with myself it was a gap I couldn’t bridge. Similarly, I wanted to be a writer because I wanted to communicate, to reach people as other writers have reached, touched and even guided me. One of my co-workers form my last job told me, “You write like you speak. That is a rare talent.” It comes from years of trying to train myself to express my thoughts in writing, and once again, failing miserably.
I never get close to what I’m essentially out of touch with; when coupled with the stress and uncertainty of every other aspect of my life, my immobilization may be somehow understandable. I can’t DO shit because essentially I am SCARED shitless. And part of the immobility is knowing which way to turn, or even who to turn to to ask directions. That’s what I need: direction.
I may be back once more before the end of the month on Friday, but this is where I sit (I’m unable to stand up for myself) today.
2014.0227. 13:07 Thursday, training day at the library.
What a mixed back of crap today is turning out to be; not flaming crap (that would be ALL bad), but crap, nonetheless:
Get up early (like 8:30 am), done with the posting of news items by 9:38. “Good”, I think to myself, “I can still get to the library and get my day started,” except I decide to take the girls out for their walk first. While talking out in the front yard with the KNight Rider of Santa Rosa, he points to my passenger-side rear tire – better get that filled before it goes totally bad. AAArrrggggghhhh!
I get to Firestone, and they are so backed up, I can’t wait. I had been getting my tires at Big O anyway, so I left Firestone and went over to Big O Tires.
Huzzah! The tire gone flat IS ONE OF THEIRS, and they have to fix it for free!!! But the driver-side rear tire is still gone, and needs to be replace. “Go ahead, do it,” I tell them, but the money for the tire is money borrowed from Peter to pay Paul (but at least I had it).
but when I ask them, “Since you have to take both tires off anyway, can you replace the brake pads?” “Not without rotating the roters, so it’ll come to about $275.”
Whoops! too much, even for Peter to lend Paul. Take the tire, and for better or worse, bypass the brakes, for now. Meineke, here I come. Get your estimates handy.
Then, I get over to the library (after dropping off the car, promising to come pick it up in the afternoon, if they don’t mind harboring a fugitive, which was fine with them.
CLOSED FOR LIBRARY TRAINING DAY!
Dang! Star*ucks is only one block further along Fourth Street, I’m positive, so I trek over. Unfortunately, it’s a Star*ucks annex to the local Barnes & Noble/Since 1873, and there isn’t a lot of table space, and it’s not conducive to focused concentration, which I’m not the best at under the best of conditions. It’s early in the day (It was around 10:00 that I found the flattening tire), so I asked to share the larger, rectangular Disabled table with a man who admitted he was getting ready to leave, anyway. Then there was the young mother with her pre-schooler Nick, looking for a place to sit, so I offered the other half of my table to Nick and his mother.
That’s what I meant about not being a place for focused concentration, but I at least had a seat with wi-fi available. When they left, the single table next to it came open, with an electrical outlet to boot, so I resettled. And just as I’m writing it, a job interview starts at the next table, so focus and concentration is out the door.
So much for that.
And then there’s the weather; also a mixed bag. It was raining when I woke up, and the clouds cleared late morning, and now it’s sunny and 60º, and I’m finishing up here and going to check on the car. Maybe I can pick it up and get going with the rest of my day.