Nov

2

Breathe.
"Trickle Down Theory"Taken October 20, 2007 with Canon PowerShot A550

“Trickle Down Theory”
Taken October 20, 2007 with Canon PowerShot A550

I’m …. tired. The last couple of weeks have been draining. I didn’t realize how tense things were getting, what with the good things, like gearing up for NaNoWriMo, the bad things, which I will get to in a sec, and the confusing things – mostly just trying to find “my place” at the J.O.B., which is difficult, as I was sort of dropped down into the middle of the project, and I feel like I’m just sitting around picking my nose most of the time. I don’t feel very useful there, truthfully.

I’ve outlined a couple of freelance magazine article ideas – another good thing. One, I actually wrote a proposal for, because it’s about an organization that I want to write about, but needs “interviews” with staff, and I thought it best to get the blessing of the head honcho. I got an immediate ‘yes’, and I’m excited about the project, which I already have a publication in mind for. And now (Sigh…*), I have to break it down into manageable chunks that can be dealt with on my lunch hour, since I kind of want to be face to face with the people I need to speak with.

My father is getting better. This was one of the “bad” things that I thought I might be jumping ship for, and I didn’t want to post about it, because we didn’t really know how things were going to turn out. He had a stroke, and then a heart attack, interspersed with several gushing nosebleeds just to make it all interesting. Even more interesting, he made friends with an imaginary bug that lives in the ceiling above his bed in the Critical Care Unit. He spent his whole first day there watching it dig a hole in the plaster and run around the curtain rail.

Yesterday, his 87th birthday, they let him out of Critical Care and he’s now in a general ward. A Co-Ed ward. With two “chicks”. He was a little put out with this at first, because he says he has enough trouble with women hitting on him, and he couldn’t see how he’d get any rest with two more hanging around his bed all day… turns out, he and my mom know the grandmother of one of them, so now it’s all good. I guess you don’t hit on the guy in the next bed if he’s a friend of Grandma. Or maybe you do but he doesn’t mind so much – I’ll have to ask.

My novel, now… I’m off to a slow start. Somehow, I’m not worried, though – I’m not sure why I’m not worried, but it may be that my main character, Emma, is very very solid in my mind, and I love her to pieces already.

I’m having trouble getting to the “getting it down part”, though, and that’s entirely because too many of the new things are still too new, and damn it, there’s too many of them. I want to go back to the more laid-back schedule of school and Ruby, J.O.B. and Ruby, Mom and Dad and Ruby, and rum on the weekends. Routine, please. The writing is more likely to happen then.

I won’t be going back to that routine anymore now, though, because I’ve gone and changed things and started a few things up that are designed to force me out of this place and into the Great Unknown, which, in my case is anything beyond 50 miles of here.

What, me – scared?! Pah!

Yes. Shitless.

I find the picture at the top of this post very calming. It reminds me to breathe, and to learn to take things as they come and actually do something with them. I’m learning how to recognize opportunities and yes, create some that weren’t there before, and Ta-DA! A life away from here is now “seeable”. The last thing I want to do right now is what I’ve been doing my whole life: hide from the things I want, and make up reasons to let them float by. I can’t dive at them though, either, because I’m likely to get myself run over. They are bigger than me.

I’m growing into them though… 😉

Random Song for the Day: “Aerodynamic” – Daft Punk

Posted in J.O.B., NaNoWriMo, Photography, Real Life, The Father Chronicles, Writing | 3 Comments

3 Responses to Breathe.

  1. cardiogirl says:

    Hey Les,

    You know, as stressful as all of that sounds, it really seems like you have a handle on it. I know that’s not completely the case and maybe I am just good at presenting things in their least freaky mode — which you seem to good at as well. A little humor makes the stress go down, doesn’t it?

    I did love this line best: “turns out, he and my mom know the grandmother of one of them, so now it’s all good. I guess you don’t hit on the guy in the next bed if he’s a friend of Grandma.

    I am so impressed with your photography. Please tell me you are making gobs of money on these photos because they are incredible! Especially today’s photo — awesome. I may have to print today’s pic just so I can see some serenity now and again.

    Good luck on managing the stress.

    Les Says: You’re so right. Humour makes just about anything easier to deal with. I’ve been slow at learning to apply that concept, but I’m getting better at it, I think.

    Gobs of money on the pics? Oh, I wish! I’d like to do so, but I’m still in the “photography for me” stage. I like to think I’ll take it more seriously in future. Along with the cartooning…. and the flash programming…

  2. Mushy says:

    Those powerful drugs can cause old people to do and say strange things. When I my step-dad was in the hospital once he kept asking me if I’d had taken his red pickup over to his mom’s. His mom had been dead for over 60 years and the pickup, I found out later, was his first ride!

    Of course, I had to have some fun with it, so I asked him if he’d ever been in jail. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” he asked.

    I asked which ones, and he said, “Ever damn one in East Tennessee,” he stated proudly! Sure enough, he was quite a rounder in his day. During WWII he test drove motorcycles around the hills and valleys of Tennessee (what a cush job), and did drink a lot, and had been in a number of jails, both while in and after he got out of the service.

    However, to see the man then, you would never have thought he’d even jaywalked.

    Les Says: When I was growing up, I looked at my father in awe – he always seemed like such a serious, astute business man. Well, except when he was yodelling, but everybody’s gotta let off steam somehow.

    It’s only been in the last 20 years or so that I’ve slowly come to realize that he’s batty, and always has been, and the rest of the family is as well. I felt like the proverbial “Black Sheep” my whole life… for absolutely no reason at all, it turns out. They are all stranger than I am. I actually have to work at it, some days.

  3. Frances Uku says:

    The greatest of life’s tragedies are no match for some good humour (that’s right, with a ‘u’ gaddammit!) When things get so utterly cataclysmic, what else can one do but laugh? Your comments form is bittersweet for me – “advise me” was one of the last things my 59-year-old dad said to me before I lost him to cancer almost 3 years ago. Boy was there a lot to “laugh” about back then :-/

    Mazel tov to your papa on making it to 87, and I wish him a speedy, peaceful recovery!

    Les Says: FRANCES! What an honour (there goes another ‘u’ – LOL!)!

    I’m so sorry to hear about your dad – especially to cancer. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through. I’ll send your good wishes on to my dad – I’m sure he’ll appreciate them. And he seems to be holding his own, although it’ll be awhile before he’s able to come home, I guess.

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