i miss you

it's an odd feeling, not having time to write. some part of me feels denied, lost. but i genuinely have no time at the moment. and i know i'm not supposed to be saying that, that if i say, i have all the time in the world, suddenly i will. but that just isn't the case. i'm just swamped.

but it will be well.

i keep trying to navigate the quagmire, and sometimes, somedays, it feels decent. like i can do this. like my life is not living me. i'm grateful for those days.

the past two days at work have been hellacious. i'm not sure why, or how, or what exactly is going on, but a lesser bobka will not do. i am glad to have held up on my own and found my footing. i've grown lazy in my new store, and sometimes i'm grateful for the respite, but mostly, i miss busy. i would rather be racing the entire time i'm at work than standing around. any day.

so, the girls are out by the fire. we roasted ginormous marshmallows, they are so delish because while the outside gets charred nicely when flambed, the inside stays mushy soft. so there is a more even balance of the black carbon coating to soft white near gelatinous sugary substance. two thumbs up.

this is why i'm not writing, it all just sounds idiotic. like bullshit.

i'm in a semester where i have to do something that isn't necessarily my thing. it isn't not my thing, but i have to try to do things properly. and, well, you know how that goes.

so i am just going to do what i have to do to graduate.

that means, focus and get through this semester. it's all i can do.

haven't failed yet

i told her

i usually stare at the ceiling for a day or two grateful that i haven't failed yet,

after a packet is turned in. this time, i have nothing but deadlines. everywhere i turn, someone needs something else, and these aren't the kind of deadlines one simply ignores, believe me, i would if i could. i can't.

so i turned in my packet, for better or worse. i will be humble, submissive, grateful, and brief. i will revise. and get help when i'm ready to shoot myself.

it's worked out.

my daughter makes me laugh. i'm grateful our relationship continues to improve. i wish i could say the same for so many others in her life.

that's all. the good news. i'm focused on that.

i haven't failed yet. :)

just three stinking pages

i have just printed out my rough draft of my paper. i've got twenty eight pages. i need three more pages to be safe. i'm getting there. i will soon go through it, and elaborate on what i can. hoping it makes sense. that i have some logical thread, that my prof can actually see what i'm doing and not have to guess.

i am so fried, but this will get done and then i will clean my apartment which has, in true mfa student fashion, hit the skids.

i'm going to make this deadline, i've got a lot of work to do on the paper, but it is coming together and i'm excited. it is nearer now to what i hoped it would be than ever before. let's hope i can dial it in and tighten it up in the next two revisions.

i'm kind of like a zombie with all these deadlines, but it's okay. the work is getting done and i'm leaning in letting momentum carry me.

my schedule shifts this week from all closes of last week, to all opens/mids. i am discovering this alternating sleep schedule is very rough on me. but it will be well. i will survive this, and thrive.

but for now. i need to veg. to rest. to give my mind a break before the nitty gritty of revising the rough begins. my deadline is tomorrow and i'm only three pages away.

flashes of things to come

i'm still doing it, editing myself. not pushing publish. so not like me, but i have reasons. and i am too tired to deal with much at the moment, so while i am still writing, i'm not posting. this is not a bad way for me to be.

i try not to look down my list too far beyond the very next thing because it gets overwhelming. and the tendency is to panic. i refuse to panic. i keep trusting it will work out as it is supposed to. i trust. bottom line.

do i understand any more than i did last week, or even last year, no, but i don't really need to. i'm really going with the flow in so many areas, and now i'm just conscious of it. which is a good and bad thing.

i took my girl to the salon recently, and she looks like a young lady. my best friend has been telling me for some time that she's blossomed but i never noticed it until she got her hair done. now, my baby is gone. all traces of child, save the dirty hand prints on the wall, are gone. she's a young lady. a beautiful young lady now.

and the good news is, i saw it. completion of this season of my life, the doorway to the next phase. and it was good.

i was told by a prophetic type dejavu is a sign that you're on the right path. headed in the right direction.

while i do get that a lot, i also get flashes of what's to come. a preview of coming attractions if you will. i have decided to share that with my besties because when it happens i want someone else besides me to know that i knew.

i need to listen to myself more and trust that knowing. it's hard to do sometimes. everything looks contrary, but i know there is a lot going on behind the curtain and soon, very soon, the best act of this particular play begins.

i can't wait. it's like a long intermission and there's a line in the ladies room. it's fine, necessary. the break is needed. but it is the moment between scenes. the action has subsided on stage in a sense. but that's my point, it really hasn't. everything is happening for the big finale. when the lovers unite. the battle is won. the standing ovation occurs.

and i can't wait.

foecuss

i think i've been asleep for days, between working jags and obligation. i've had little energy to check things off my list. but i'm trying. the sad news is, one of the kittens killed a bird. a golden finch, a female, from what i can tell, dressed in drab yellows. cheese puff, the playful, is still toying with the kill, carrying it around and i can't help but feel awful. perhaps leaving the kittens (soon to be cats) here is unfair. perhaps luring the finches with seed is also unfair. perhaps what we do when we try to help is only make things worse. i don't know. i don't have any answers.

but i am beginning to work on my thesis again and i come across this quote which stops me cold and demands i pay it homage before proceeding.

the creative person in a sense does something for all of us simply by being, and perhaps we help ourselves when we help such persons in the process of their own creative unfolding.

frank barron, 1969

as much as i believe this, it feels selfish to me. perhaps because it gives me some license to creativity. but, it makes me feel responsible to others in some way for my creativity and the use i make of it. i'm not sure which is right, if we are gifted with talent and do the best we can, or if we serve with our talents, again, doing the best we can. perhaps both are true at the same time.

i think of the burgeoning weight of responsibility i feel at the moment, and try not to let my shoulders slump, but keep leaning in to the weight, certain the help i need is on the way. i can do this, it is possible for me to succeed. i must, first, believe in myself.

had a brief discussion about vulnerability with a writer i love, and what it comes down to for me is, that i write on the edge of immense vulnerability. that i live in that place. which is why i fight so fiercely to protect it.

it may look like i'm fighting just for fighting's sake. but i'm not. i don't have an ounce of interest in warfare. i am keenly interested in creativity. in pursuing my bliss. in making the sound i am capable of making in the clearest possible way. is that always easy? is it always pretty? absolutely not.

anyone flailing on the edge of vulnerability knows it costs a lot, an awful lot to remain there. to write from that place.

i trust that i will make my sound and it will be heard.

i will succeed in this because it is what i am meant to do in this moment. even if now it looks like a man of straw, it will quicken. and live.

soon enough.

sleep, sleep well

i'm just home. a million things to do, but the million things will have to wait. i need a nap.

i am trying not to psych myself out by the size of the tasks at hand, just trying to cross one off every chance i get. so far, it's working. but i'm tired.

it has gotten cold, and i will curl up in a ball like a kitten and sleep.

opening my store tomorrow, and having to juggle paying peter and paul, but it is well. we will make it. the universe is abundant.

but first, a nap.