Get Out of My Dreams…
by pronounced "ahhh" like a sigh
I’m pretty much certain everything I write for the next few days will have a Billy Ocean lyric as the title. You’re just going to have to deal with it. I’m sorry.
I’m not sorry.
I really liked that song when I was little. I think it was half in cartoon. It’s the same reason MC Skat Kat and I were peoples. I loved that video. I know the whole dance routine. I know the dance routine to most videos that came out in the 80s/90s. We were too poor to afford dance class so that’s how I learned how to dance. I checked out books in the library to learn proper ballet technique. Remember that for my inevitable Master Class on OWN… provided OWN still exists in a year. No shade. I just find the channel hella boring except for the Master Class series.
I didn’t do anything productive today. Not one single, solitary thing. I didn’t cook. I didn’t write. I didn’t clean. I didn’t cheer my estranged truck driver father on as he participated in the world series of arm wrestling. Screaming, “Over the top, dad! Over the top!” Nope. I did none of that. I just sat here, staring at my blank google page, watching it blink and blink and blink taunting me with it’s incessant, persistent, ticking like some sort of demonic metronome. I read a little bit. Then back to the blinking cursor. I really want to write about Beyonce’s pregnancy and how it’s turned into some sort of round about vilification of single motherhood. I just can’t seem to figure out the best way to enter the conversation. I talk about my son a lot and it’s obvious I’m a single mother but I don’t really talk about the circumstances surrounding this. And not talking about it would make my post inauthentic at best and downright useless at worst.
The blinking cursor got annoying so I did a “Name it and Claim it” I made a bullet point list of where I wanted to be exactly one year from today. You should try it. It’ll surprise you plus it will keep your goals close to you. You’ll have a destination in mind for the amazing journey you’re on now. Or you’ll have a place to look forward so you can start on a journey.
Thanks to one of my amazing followers (@kenya_d) it looks like there might be a BasseyWorld Live: Redux. I’m going to look into the venue after my sabbatical and see what happens but it looks good. It will also serve as the first fundraiser for The Siwe Project. We need funds just so we can put the website up. I gave up a lot to start this organization. I’ve turned down gigs that weren’t really in line with where I’m headed. I’ll still do colleges/universities because I have the opportunity to spread the message as well as read some poems. Boogie is well taken care of and I trust and believe that my personal needs will be met. I’m never without. Something always pulls me through. And I feel like this is a big enough “thing” that it will have its own rewards. I have to believe that.
And I do believe it.
Even though I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to come about Boogie’s winter uniform but it’ll happen. It always does.
Paciencia y fe.
Lesson for the stubborn and impatient.
I have nothing of interest or importance to say. I just felt like giving that patronizing blinking cursor something to talk about.
This new medication is taking my appetite so I have to remember to eat something. So far it’s protein shakes and tea. Chewing has become tedious but I’ll do it. The medication is working so I refuse to stop taking it. I might finally have the combination. I feel completely balanced right now. Not too up and definitely not down. I feel “normal”. I like normal. I just need to relearn how to function in normal. It’s a reset that I have to do with each med switch. Nothing about me changes. My personality remains the same, I just have to learn to move without the crutches. It’s almost like mental/emotional physical therapy. Which is where regular ass therapy comes in and giving myself permission to sit and not write anything all day and not beat myself up over it. This ability to be kinder to myself and treat myself the way I treat and care for others. It’s good. I like it.
I’m sorry this isn’t poetic or inspirational. It’s just all I have right now. And a closet full of shoes and bags that I need to organize in some way. Swapping out summer for fall. Every year, I wonder what happened to my clothes. Suddenly I have nothing to wear for fall. Plenty of shoes, coats and denim but where are my tops? Do I even own any sweaters? These are questions I have.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about why I’m in this deep deep place of self reflection and evaluation.
Or I won’t.