I’ve been laying kind of low lately; as always during the past two years, some days are harder than others. I seem to have had a slew of “some days” all in a row. Some of this has to do with having lost all of my hours at the Island Flavor, because they have reduced the hours in general for the winter. Since it was my major source of income, I’m a little panicked. Because I have some savings, I’m not panicked a lot. This has given me a lot of time to myself in the last week or so. It’s been pretty intense. Especially since I no longer have free cable or any other sort of television since mine went out. Apparently, the guy who normally lives in my trailer was pirating his cable off of my landlady and when the storms hit, his splice knocked out everyone around and brought the fury of the cable company down on my landlady. Since hell hath no fury like a couch potato denied, I think he’s probably glad he’s safe in Thailand.
For the past two years, I have relinquished my title as The Girl Who Doesn’t Watch TV entirely. I dub the summer after Dennis left as The Summer I Spent On The Couch because very literally every day I would wake up in the morning, go work out, come back, shower, and lay on the couch to watch TV for the rest of the day. Because I had no cable, as often as not, I would end up watching infomercials. It was a sad, sad time for me. I think I developed a little crush on Ron Popeil. After that, I was just in the habit and when I got here and there was free cable, I was doomed. Since having to live in the quiet with my own thoughts and no work, I realize that I have been using TV and busy-ness to keep from thinking. It’s been a pretty intense week. I’ve knitted. I’ve read my epic fantasy series. I’ve listed items for sale on the internet. I’ve worked on my quilt made out of Dennis’s boxer shorts. I’ve avoided cleaning. All with music in the background instead of VH1’s Top 100 Celebrity Overindulgences chattering away in my head. And I think that little bits of passion have begun bubbling up out of the quiet. I’ve begun to want things for myself. I look forward to carving out community for myself in a city. I’ve realized that I still form lesson plans in my head and talk about favorite lectures from my past. I guess I’m not done with teaching even if I’m still not quite ready to go back. I think about dating and going to grad school. I think about living this life as a barrista/used bookstore attendant with no responsibilities in a city environment. I looked at the classifieds in the Chicago Reader. I no longer have that smushed, cottony, distanced feeling when I think about what’s next. It’s intense. I can also draw tears and a panicky feeling just by breathing in too deeply. I think that the resurgence of passion is what’s making some days harder than others. Still, it’s better than betrayals making some days harder than others.
Well, back to my scissors.
a fancy marble - In my newly-rearranged studio, the shelf containing jars upon jars of buttons is just within reach of a certain inquisitive five year old I know and live w...