My kitchen at home is usually the same way: I don't like to leave with dishes in the sink, food on the counter, etc. It's such a tiny place that any semblance of mess makes the apartment look like chaos.
At least in my head it does...
Folks are indeed impressed by my neatness, including my boss (who mentioned my desk in my review), my dear friend who watches my cat, her mom that she brought in one time when I was out of town, causing me to be slightly apoplectic when I found out--my house is not clean enough for MOMS!
I like order. Sue me.
Or do I?
My outside in no way resembles the mess living inside of me. Inside I feel like a pinball machine--thoughts whirling around, my brain not sticking to any one idea long enough to bring it to fruition. I reach for something, remain interested in it for about two seconds and then I'm off thinking about something else.
Wait: let me further define all of this. Thinking = worrying.
I worry whether I'm good enough for my day job; I worry that I'm not being seen enough as a performing artist. I worry that I'm not a good daughter, sister, friend, aunt, pet owner. I worry that I'm not contributing enough to the world, because after all, as a childfree woman in her 40s, what the hell use am I to anyone? I'm useless, useless USELESS.
Pause.
And then I think about everyone who is raising children or out of a job or debilitated in any way and I realize I'm SELFISH SELFISH SELFISH.
You get the downward spiral idea.
The half a dozen or so follows of this blog know that I keep lamenting that I have not yet produced a cabaret yet. Judging from my anticipated 2011 schedule, I don't envision it happening anytime soon. In my defense, it's because I have other balls in the air and some of those balls include performing. So it's not like I'm curled up at home, cat next to me, paging through Lucky magazine and watching the world go by.
I don't want to rehash all of the reasons why I do or I don't do things. I acknowledge that I haven't been doing them. I let the whoosh! of life pinball me along---the buying of cat food, the visiting of relatives, the out of town meetings--and give that as an excuse to Not. Create.
I just stopped doing it.
So when my new friend David Loehr (he of the stupendous 2amt fame) told me whilst drinking Marshmallow Shakes at Good Stuff Eatery that he was going to "stop stopping" (long story--had to be there, or let him tell you), that hit home with me. It still does. Stop stopping.
I'm gonna be sorta passive-aggressive here and say that I'm not the sort to dwell on the "useless" and the "selfish" thoughts I penned above. I'm a fairly positive person. I get by, but oh; the possibilities...I know I've been coasting along on my hiney for a few years now.
So I'm gonna stop it.
Stay tuned...
