I haven’t run for a week.
I am equally as far behind on tasks and projects.
I’m doing okay in The Artist’s Way as far as daily morning pages, writing exercises and weekly tasks are concerned, except for ONE REALLY IMPORTANT ONE.
I am supposed to take myself out alone, on a date that nourishes my creative soul, once a week and I keep putting it off and putting it off and seriously and in all honesty, without my usual exaggeration – I have been on 2, count ‘em, in the 9 weeks that I have been doing this program.
Unless laying around in my pyjamas watching Dog Whisperer marathons on repeat counts as an artist’s date. Do “Artists” do that? They must.
I also haven’t done yoga in 3 days and it’s starting to affect the cats. Phoebe left a hairball in the middle of the hallway yesterday with a toothpick in it, stabbing a note that read: Downward Facing Dog – B**ch!
I know it’s just because she enjoys climbing me like a bridge and rubbing her cat-butt in my face when I’m vulnerable like that but I so hate creating instability in her world, you know?
I have to learn how to cope with these stupid flare-ups without getting completely de-railed. Okay fine, I get the: can’t jog when I’m in so much pain that all I want is to be taken out behind the barn and put out of my misery.
But it’s not really an excuse to stop writing, or to print out a document that I need to read for work, or pick up the phone when it’s ringing or showering….
So after adequately berating myself yesterday morning for screwing up my budget, not exercising enough (at all), forgetting my childrens’ names, not blogging enough, blah blah blah, I forced myself to take a walk through the house in the spirit of a mini I-survived-and-more.
Look, I told myself. This is the living room you finally unpacked, after moving in this JULY.
This is the bedroom you finally finished unpacking also.
This is the collage you spent 3 hours working on this week.
This is a pile of accessories you need to put away… that you used for the two shows you performed in last week.
These are all the empty wine bottles that… um… er….
This is where the hairball that you cleaned up used to be (positive reinforcement people, no matter how small the task)
I need to stop dwelling on what I didn’t get done, acknowledge my accomplishments, dust my self off and move forward.
And I really really need some exercise. Not only did I dream last night that Franky called me fat last night – which is impossible because he rarely sees my mid-section on account of me keeping his face buried in my boobs at all times.
But I am growing increasingly restless and bitchy (I almost tossed the cat off the balcony for meowing too loud yesterday and one of my children are missing – I suspect I may have thrown her out with the recycling and conveniently blocked it out of my mind – That or she went to the free Sean Paul concert last night and ran away with the roadies…).
So tomorrow morning. I pledge. 30 minute run and 30 minutes of yoga. No excuses. And then we’ll see about those other 3 trillion things on my to do list.
Anybody have any Artist Date suggestions? The free-er the better!