So much for NaNovella... I haven't found the time to answer emails, much less start a book. I know, excuses, excuses, I haven't made the time. That's more accurate. But in my defense, I have worked for the last bunch of days straight through with no reprieve, it's not like I've been sitting on my ass thinking about writing and just not doing it.
I was thinking about starting my biography. Because I'm so important. Is that an auto-biography? Or is that when someone else writes it for you?
This morning, I am a victim of poor planning: a teensy 8 ounces of fruit for a mere three dollars... it's robbery. (These pancakes are very robbery!) I have to go to the store.
So I haven't written in a few days, and I don't really know what I have to say. I spoke at a meeting last night, and it's maybe one of two or three times in all the times I've spoken at meetings where I feel like I did a good job. There wasn't any bullshit, any trying to be anything else other than who and what I am, which usually happens when I stop paying attention. It wasn't a free-for-all where you can talk about yourself for 45 minutes and just hold the meeting hostage, it was talk for a half hour and then pick a topic - which seems harder at first, but what winds up happening for me is that I cut out a lot of bullshit. I talked about when my recovery started, not when my sobriety started. I talked about all the different places in my head in the patches of time that have passed... a little bit of what it used to be like, and how I got sober, but - it just came out different than it usually does. I felt really real and really awkward but I was real about being awkward, if that makes any sense. And I realized how much I bitch and get upset about all kinds of stuff that turns my head inside out, but really, I don't have it so bad. I'm so all victim to self pity these days. Once I don't have so much time on my hands, it gets a lot better.
People feeding their children brownies for breakfast. Seriously. How about all up at the counter asking their kids what they want - how about you're going to get what I say you're going to get, because I said so? It's like they are generating piles of toxic waste. Here's a brownie, here's a five dollar hot chocolate... fuck, and here's the little group of people who talk all loud in here in the mornings. Whatevs.
So today I've got to go to the gym, pay rent, get laundry and the rest of the bills done, and maybe work this afternoon or maybe not until tomorrow, which is fine by me. I think I worked almost 14 hours between Saturday and Sunday, plus speaking in Stamford, plus Super Bowl Insanity 4000. I ate a hot dog. It was kind of gross.
I've changed my desktop to a giant photograph of part of the Earth from a satellite, hopefully it will keep me in perspective a little bit better - I'll take whatever I can get.... What else... I know there's other stuff hiding behind things in the back of my head someplace.
It's been a big adjustment, in more than just the obvious ways, getting used to my life as-is (I think they call that one "accepting life on life's terms", hmph)... I talked about it a little bit last night, I get sober, and then I try to get all my outsides alright, and then I begin my actual recovery, and then my mom gets sick and everything starts to shift right when I'm at the peak of really coming into my own skin - and then all my energy went to that, and then my mom dies, and then the relationship with Raf started at the turn of all that too - it's like the world is coming back into focus yet another time after getting the freaking shit kicked out of me. So I was all trotting along, trying things on, getting a real sense of who I am and where I'm going, and then all of a sudden someone hog ties me and throws a bag over my head and puts me on a plane and I get off it alone in the middle of France. And not in a good way, maybe let's say I landed in a remote anonymous desert. All not knowing how to survive and which way to head towards and all that. And I've finally found my way, but I'm different now, and everything's different, like someone coming back from war or being stranded on an island, not really quite sure of whether or not they're going to make it. Tom Hanks when he gets back from wherever he was in that movie with the volleyball. You get what I mean.
So I guess I'm all reacclimating or something, I don't know how much or when it stops, I guess we all are in some form or another because we keep changing and we keep re-adjusting to the world around us.
Wow. I got all deep there for a second. All typing my morning away like I've got nothing to do. Time to go clear some stuff off the list.
vvb
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