9/27/10
This morning at 6:47 I awoke to rain and a gray day. There was a small hint of damp coolness in the air and as I walked dogs in the half light of dawn I was acutely aware of nostalgia creeping in. Fallen leaves pasted to the sides of my clogs as I crossed the lawn and the patter of rain as it slid down the street drains kept cadence with the clicking of the dogs’ toenails on the asphalt. The phantom scent of kindergarten glue paste and cinnamon flavored Red Hots in apple cider invaded my memory banks and I suddenly realized that October is but days away. I looked back at the front door- what was I thinking? By now there should have been dried corn stocks and faux pumpkins embracing the front stoop. Where is time running to so fast these days that I have so little time for myself or my family? Has my insatiable need to validate my work with cold cases (writing) become so blinding that I am myopic to all else?
I slow in my approach to the steps and let the rain drool into the collar of my housecoat. I need to slow down. Need to pace myself and find a minute here and there for Charley, but also a minute here and there for me.
Another show in the can leaves me now with just one show to produce for the next month and a half. The additional show combined with school and other obligations has pushed me to the limits this past two weeks. Mentally and physically I am stretched as far as I believe I can get and yesterday morning I found out my psychic/medium/detective will be relocating to another part of the country. Along with a plethora of other unforeseen complications, I believe I have reached my saturation point for frustrations. Still, no rest for the weary as they say…
A new school week is upon me and without compassion for my exhaustion it will roll on through without even the slightest concern for my breaching the melting point.
Breathe… breathe … I keep hearing myself say. The job is imperative to my family’s survival and my writing is imperative to mine. School was my idea and so I am unable to chastise anyone but myself for such strain. I comfort myself with the knowledge that a few short years from now I will look back and see this as another achievement worthy of my efforts. It is only now in the thick of my chaos that I see it as strain and not segue to a better, bolder me. In the meantime I shall take in deep the slight morning chills, enjoy the turn of foliage and the sweet, crisp shadows of baring trees that will begin to exhaust themselves earlier each day on my way to the theatre where night is always tinged with the magic of potential.
I look at the clock and realize I have chapters to read and quizzes to study for and just when I feel the overwhelming urge to scream, I hear the faint call of Carole King and the Gilmore Girls, gulp down a few sips of my cold coffee, look out side my window at the ever green and the ever gray and sigh that I am exactly where I am meant to be…
At my laptop!
Brownstonelit's Blog 
October 3, 2010 at 2:37 pm |
I have to hear exactly what Susie has to say with this 😀