The Annual Report
I went in to see my doctor for a physical because somebody who was in my house – perhaps the worker – stole my bottle of Atavan, which I use very occasionally to sleep when I get off rhythm. And since my rhythm is going to be interrupted when I go out of my time zone this summer, I figured I might as well go get my prescription refilled.
Which brings me to all of the things you have to face when you are getting a physical. “First, how are you feeling?” Fine, I guess. Tired. Usually always tired, which for me is weird because I was never tired and now I’m always tired. “But your thyroid levels are good.” Okay, check. How about the fact that I have myriad projects and on any given day I’m alternating between one of the eight of them, and those are sandwiched in between being the mother of a five year old? Now are you starting to comprehend what I mean by tired?
“You’ve put on some weight.” Really? Yes, well, actually I know. I feel it – I carry this poundage around with me wherever I go and I don’t like it one bit, not one itty bit. “You need to do more cardio.” Yes, but when? I’m doing Zumba and Aikido and okay, I did get new running shoes but that was right when the weather changed from nice to Africa hot. Then there’s the pool – yes, I have access to a pool – two pools to be fair – one indoors and one outdoors – and I have no hair – and there is no reason not to swim – so today I swam 24 laps.
“What about your heart? There is a test you can do to see if you have plaque since two siblings and your father had this problem.” My heart is bruised and scarred and has proud flesh over it where new has replaced worn. It seems to be beating just fine. Okay, I’ll take the test if my cholesterol bloodwork is not good.
“How much do you drink – a glass of wine a day?” Ha, as if! I am asleep right after Tin and as a matter of fact, a few nights when I’ve tried to stay up to post in my blog, I’ve been interrupted by either him or Stella, the puppy. “You have a puppy!” Um, yeah.
I go to sleep at 9:30 most nights.
My working life is writing about fraccing, Big Media, racism and parenting, Aikido, and trying to write a book in my spare time.
What I left out, so off the record: I’ve taken to sleeping in the middle of my king sized bed. It’s the bed I bought back in 2007 when I moved into the LaLa and I wanted to have a large family. It was the seed, the gateway drug if you will, to my creating the family that I had desired. I’ve always slept on the right side of it, in my own space, with or without anyone else, and now I’ve taken to luxuriously moving to the middle of this great big bed and hogging it. I’ve come all this way to learn that I’m just fine alone.
I sometimes find it odd that I’m the baby of a large family and yet my and Tin’s family is composed of mostly non-blood related individuals who are in our life. And we’re good with that. We don’t shed a tear on this one.
I didn’t say that although I’ve cleared my head of most weighty facts that seemed to have pushed me down for so long, I still catch myself wondering what if on occasion. I question my motives when I recently traded two hours of good reading and quiet time in the morning for a puppy who is electrified and wakes me nearly every morning before I’m ready to get up.
I’ve doubted my parenting skills.
There are moments when I even doubt that the entire charade will hold up one minute longer, and yet it does. And I figure it will, until it won’t. And that’s okay.
The highlight of my week was finding my panties on sale (read: assorted colors!) and listening to Tin tell a story about a drawing he made where a bad guy shot balls at a speeding train while another train poured lava on him when the cops finally came to take him to jail and taped his mouth shut with a ladder.
What?
Maybe I don’t have anything else to say here. I’m not sure. Maybe now I’m just posting out of a decade long habit. Perhaps my goal – to become self-actualized – has happened and I’m done.
