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Transitions are fun.
Said no Mama T, ever.
I'm not a fan of change-first off, Taurus girl here. Fixed sign, grounded, stubborn, unmoving unless food is involved. You know, that old chestnut.
Side note: Yes, I DO believe in astrology as a guideline into personality traits and behaviors-but not so much into "telling the future" Again, I'm a Taurus and given our practical nature, well...I digress.
Anywho.
Change. That's the subject. Transitions/changes etc...
Big changes like empty nesting, retirement, weddings, childbirth. Etc...
But because I also suffer my frenemy-(diagnosed generalized anxiety disorder) I also recoil on the little changes too.
Example...the end of another school year and summer off.
This is not a bad thing, I know. But, transitioning into the shiftless-lay-about lifestyle has never been an easy path for me.
I spend ten months seemingly running, running, running-little work/life balance. And before you think it...yep, did that shit to myself. But, if you slow to a full stop in life-you wither. My dad taught me that.
And while I AM dreadfully lazy when at home-I mean, critical mass lazy. While at work-or doing speech things-or creative writing things etc...I am NOT lazy. As a matter of fact, I drive my colleagues insane with my go-go, we don't procrastinate, and shame on you if you do-attitude.
I'm kinda like a wind up toy. My gears run full speed until they...just don't. And that is usually as soon as my feet hit the threshold of my casa.
Much to my husband's chagrin, my battery-physical and social is on critical low as soon as I'm home.
This makes me spacey, dissociative, tuned-out, hyper-focused on social media, or a PC game, in a bubble where no sound- or human being- can penetrate.
This is like...erm...a weird form of afternoon grogginess. I drink coffee, but it does very little-and usually wears right off as soon as my burgeoning belly is filled with evening sup.
Here's the rub about that...I can't drink coffee after 7pm. If I do, I still feel mentally cashed out, but it prevents sleep. I'll toss and turn all night long if I even think about the smell of go-go beans after 7pm.
It's this whole getting old thing.
Fuck that thing. Me no likey.
Anyway, my point...laziness, change, etc.
Every year at this time, I have to find ways to readjust so I don't do the weird Romani vampire thing where I just sit still for decades and start to petrify in my seven-hundred-dollar high-leg recliner.
So, this blogging is one cure for that.
I'm not a day-reader. I know, it's weird. But, reading in daylight has never been a thing for me unless I'm subbing during the school year-and need brain stim. But at home, nah bruh. reading happens at bedtime because it settles down my anxious brain and pulls focus to something other than my OWN big, scary, monster, life.
So, reading is not an occupier during all of my free days.
IF I had a truck ton of disposable cash-(LOL...I'm a teacher, that, in and of itself is a huge comedy point)
I could fill my days with mani-pedis, hair salons, shopping, lunching ladies, spa treatments, picnics, lounging by the country club pool, gym-ratting, etc...
But, I don't- obviously.
So, finding ways to be productive and move this slimer-like blob off of the chair and fighting ROT is a creative endeavor for me.
Creative-being the operative word.
Drawing, coloring, painting, writing, etc.
Finding scripts and pieces for speech.
Cooking, baking.
Organizing closets, shelves, and spaces that need it.
Cleaning. Bwhahahahahahaha.
Sure. I clean.
But seriously, I DO take on all of the things that have reached critical mass while working-like for instance-the bathroom, which needs to be hosed down. Like the tub and tile need some scrubbin'-big time.
The house needs to be power-washed and the front porch needs to be deck scrubbed.
ALL of the window tracks need to be cleaned. All.
Dusting. Every piece of wood in this house needs to be pledged.
All of the linens in the linen chest need to be washed and dried and sprayed with lavender.
And that's just the short list.
And yeah, it will all get done. It will just get done in my own time. Call me flash...only a bit slower and more deliberate.
I just had a turkey sandwich for lunch-because with all of the extra time on my hands-eating has become less of a biological need, but more of a leisure activity.
This is also something I have to be wary of and be disciplined in.
Exercising, well...we know how that story goes. All of the promises I made to myself back in February...are now being "considered" while I eat my tenth square of Dubai chocolate bar.
Big talker, me.
The whole point is, while my anxiety hates these changes-the same ones I was yearning for approximately six months ago when the seventeen year old, entitled, bratty, side-kicked red hat wearing, rich kid insists that he has every right to say "fuck" in my class because it's "That freedom of speech thing and it's in the courts!" Sigh.
Basically, the body is willing, the brain...not so much.
It's anxiety about: What do I do now? And having to come up with things to do, and feeling guilty if I didn't do enough, and shame-spiral eating in place of just cleaning the gyatt-damn bathtub.
Change.
Where it's a good thing, yeah, it's also a big contentious, sneering, drooling, hairy, monster that is standing over me-waiting for it's moment to pounce.
So-the writing-helps. I mean, at least I have something to show for a day that goes by, IF I wrote a thing on my puny-nobody reads it anyway, blog.
I have some interesting points, sure-but there is nothing in this blog, or really, any of my others that I would call vital, or important to see, or know. It's all just self-aggrandizing-gobbelty-gook.
Maybe a wee entertaining, but...art is subjective, as they say.
So, indulge me, if you will.
Read this stuff-even if it makes you roll your eyes and fight the urge to slam your lappie shut and walk away scratching your head, and fighting the new bout of heartburn.
Read and maybe even...comment occasionally.
Read, comment, and maybe even SHARE occasionally.
Do these things, and you'll be aiding and abetting a person who is fighting a battle that is all her own.
A battle of persistence, and self care-
No need to pity me-(not that you would) you are probably at work right now. Sorry.
But at least...consider me an alternative to picking your nose, origami from gum wrappers, or incessant porn viewing.
I'm probably not quite as entertaining as elder porn, or doorknob sniffing fetishes, but...
I'm still a feral, chubby, anxious, sarcastic, pushy, semi-talented writer with a litany to say about socks, or some other nonsense.
Support broke-ass, bored, infinitely annoying-ME, and I promise to love you forever for helping to fight the frenemy.
Last thought:
"Turn and face the strange."
-David Bowie
Yours in eternal hand wringing,
T
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