For the past 2 weeks I have slept a lot, coughed a lot, and one of my four classes is a week behind where I had hoped to be, but I guess I’ll be okay. Still dealing with some heavy eldercare and other issues that I just don’t have the energy to write about here, but I did have the time at work Friday to pick up a few dropped balls, and I had the energy this morning to craft some Blender3d steampunk uniforms.
Yes I like to write about the cheerful stuff.
A student asked me if he could use me to demonstrate some martial arts throws. In the last few months my father and my mother-in-law have seen health setbacks that seriously affected their mobility and ability to care for themselves. So things were rough even before Aunt ‘Rona visited. I can’t imagine how I’d get by if I hurt my back or hit my head. (The student was very understanding.)
One keeps going.
In this space I don’t write about the rough things much. I am privileged with a good job that I enjoy, decent healthcare, and hundreds of other blessings. But by choosing to keep my biggest sorrows and miseries private, I am contributing to the reality distortion field that is social media.
Last week I decided not to audition for a classic play directed by someone I would have loved to work with again. And just yesterday I turned down an offer from a talented director of a different classic play.
Oh, the memories I wish I could make!
I am functioning and on the mend, but still too sick to mow my own lawn and I am struggling to meet all the needs of the people in my family, so it was the obviously correct decision to say no to these opportunities. It was the right call not to visit my father for his 90th birthday. And no, I’m not going to bother applying for that travel grant because I can’t go off and leave my spouse to handle everything alone. I’m picking my battles, compromising, readjusting my expectations, and cherishing moments of peace and joy where I can find them.
I’m facing other stressors I’d rather not mention here. And you probably are, too. Yeah, this shit hits hard, doesn’t it?
One keeps going.