Yesterday was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was a day where I accomplished everything I set out to do, it was a day of utter and complete failure. It was a day of innocent two year old black children with Cars Shaped pretzels and Apple Juice Boxes and 74 year old white women drunk from a five course wine dinner.
Just another day in my life.
And yet another day spent staying afloat rather than moving forward.
I have had moments that I believed were progress that have revealed themselves to be moments of Deja-vu; The new job that ended up being somewhat like the old job; Shuffling the cards in life’s deck vigorously only to cut the cards and deal out the same hand you had an hour ago; Staring at your mental to-do list only to realize that the same things were on that list 6 months ago….12 months ago.
Anyone who finds themselves surprised that I actually wrote something for a change reads this blog knows my propensity to stop and start and flounder about when it comes to this writing thing. Part of it is that while it is easy to formulate thoughts on the fly or in the course of the day, the second you sit down to focus…the demons gather as though Ma Walton Rang the Supper bell.
- Behemothballs – The Demon who inhabits inconsistently updated blogs.
- AntoomuchDromalius – the Demon who constantly creates turmoil in your life to disrupt the creative process
- NoOneCaresBeelzebub – the Demon who constantly tells you that no one cares what you have to say but you.
obscuredbystuffofmoreIMPort – the Demon who prevents you from writing about random fun stuff by clouding your mind with trivialities like…a paying job, parenthood, and food and water necessities.
As I have suggested before, these kinds of boilerplate writer’s block are typically staved off by writing ABOUT being blocked. This brings up a Hobson’s choice where one has to choose between Unlocking the Pandora’s Box of Putting your business in the street in the name of Discussing your writer’s block in detail and leaving the blog post in Draft purgatory (with all the other aborted blog posts) and going off to play Farmcitymafiarailroadcastlezooville.
So. Here is the deal.
I wake up every morning making the choice between Throwing myself on the metaphorical pile of rocks because I feel like I am fighting the same battles I was 365 days ago and high fiving myself for still being in the fight.
Part of me says to shuck off the pride and just go balls out and put all my dysfunction and life chaos on Front Street. Because it’s 2011 and dysfunction is what’s hot in the streets.
But the reality is that there is a certain shame in having your car repossessed before it can finish breaking down on your first day of work at your new job that you had to make your only job because you can’t afford to pay for, insure, fix or replace your car that is your only way to get to your fulltime job which is basically a job you were holding while you were going to college, which you haven’t been in for three semesters so you have to couch surf on your ex’s nephews couch in South Dallas while your stuff is Way out in Keller 7 miles away from the nearest quasi regular bus at your boy’s apartment where you crash on your days off until you get out of training and make enough money to get a temporary apartment to stay on the bus/train line until you can get ANOTHER job to transition to a regular apartment which is all being retarded by the fact that it appears that the Texas Rangers’ desire to win a championship was so inspiring that people totally altered everything they did ordinarily until the Rangers were finished breaking the collective hearts of about 7 million people, 90 % of whom don’t even like baseball all like that but are so caught up in the bandwagon climbing that they get totally out of their usual routine hence sending a mini recession through the entire non sports bar food service industry which isn’t typically a problem if I hadn’t just spent two weeks making minimum wage while trying to get your life back on track for the fourth time in a year for various pending divorce related reasons and find yourself currently fighting depression because now you are forty-one dealing with the same shit you were dealing with when you were thirty-three but now your children are older and openly discussing how they wish their stepfather could adopt them and you have to actually hear this from the mother of your second ex-wife while she urges you to reconnect with your two year old toddler that you can’t bear to be away from even as you don’t see him nearly as much as you should but you don’t always go even when you COULD go because he, being a two year old boy is far more interested in the women of his life even though he misses you desperately he doesn’t need your close and personal presence, he just wants you around which is obviously not enough when you want nothing more than to have him sit in your lap for hours and hours to make up for the days that go by without you seeing him but what kind of asshole would you be if you insisted he handlethis YOUR way and not his and this says NOTHING of his long-term chronic illness he suffers from that I think about every day even as I do everything I can to not actually have to do anything about it even as I wish there was more room for me to operate as somewhat of an Equal partner but cognizant of the fact that it is my own tenuous living situation that has me in a state where I am focused more on daytoday survival than anything else.
*Stops…takes a deep breath. *
Now see, who can write about anything else with all that angst and frustration roiling around. There..it is out there now. I shall not discuss any of it any specifically, although I may make reference to it now and then.
At Least it is off my back. Now…onward…and maybe even forward.