Monthly Archives: July 2003

Yes, Yes, You Love Me, Thank You

Oh, honestly, people – I’m frustrated, not on my deathbed.

But thanks go out to everyone who left comments, e-mailed, or called as soon as they got off-line and tied up my phone for two and a half hours. Heartfelt thanks. Ceri even called long-distance from her writing retreat in Lower Prospect.

I’d be even happier if it would rain, damn it – really rain, indicating a low pressure front coming through, to break this dreadful humidity. Maybe I’ll head over to the secondhand bookstore around the corner this afternoon to look for the Dorothy Sayers books Ginger recommended for me – that ought to incite the heavens to hurl water at me, especially if I wear a white shirt.

Keeping things in perspective, I recently began to read Frida: A Biography of Frida Kahlo. And I thought I had problems with my back, and with mild chronic pain! Now I just occasionally feel guilty while I read it, knowing that in comparison, my health is far superior to what hers was.

I spent seven hours yesterday writing a 36 page take-home final exam (those who know will know), and to my stunned and utter incomprehension, I am still not done. It’s maybe only 80% complete, but after yesterday, I need a day away from it.

Breaking The Camel’s Back

Well, hasn’t this just been the worst twenty-four hours.

Migraines; vertigo as bad as I had it two summers ago; bad dreams where I cried so hard in anger and frustration that I woke up this morning with tears on my face; my right wrist swollen so badly that I can’t move it to write with a pen; the discovery that an e-mail of immense importance bounced back to me yesterday; and my computer has crashed not once, but twice this morning so far. I’m just waiting to see how the day gets even worse.

We won’t be going on the weekend group camping trip we’d been looking forward to, due to my current state of health as well as a variety of other reasons. On one hand, it’s probably a good thing; I can’t imagine the utter terror I’d feel if besieged by a migraine and severe vertigo in an unfamiliar environment. On the other hand, it was guilt-inducing because we’d promised lifts to a couple of people. Now that I’ve discovered that the e-mail of immense importance notifying people of this change in plans didn’t reach anyone yesterday, I am not only feeling incredibly angry (with no one or nothing to at which to direct my anger) but incredibly stressed because there’s nothing to do but get people down there, at least, although we can’t get them back.

I was looking forward to this, damn it. I was looking forward to seeing good friends there too.

I’ve been experiencing feelings of inadequacy in my work, as well. I can’t seem to do anything right, or anything write. I’ve re-read work and been turned off by most of it, especially the Great Canadian Novel. Ideas all seem like limp dead mice or tasteless dried-up apples. Nothing works.

I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of convincing myself that I’m better, that I’m happy, that I can make something useful of myself. Now I’m just angry.

If I could only turn that into something else. Words. Thoughts. Something productive. But I’m sick of trying to change things into other things that they aren’t.

How can I be burning out again? What can I be burning out from? Or did I never pull myself out of the original crash-and-burn, just pretending to myself that I was better?

Canada Day Concert Review, In Brief

My power is about to be turned off for the day due to work on the building, so this needs must be short and sweet.

The concert was a tremendous amount of fun, and all involved appeared to enjoy themselves immensely. The temperature had dropped after a solid rainstorm, there was a lovely breeze (which I hear might be due to a couple of my guests!), and the ambiance, of course, was spectacular as it always is in the St Joachim church.

Many, many heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one who came out to enjoy an evening of live classical music, and who evidently enjoyed themselves enough to rise en masse to give us a standing ovation. It was a wonderful finale to a terrific, though challenging, season. I always deeply appreciate the effort my friends make to attend these evenings.

What am I going to do all summer? (Other than see films on Wednesday nights, and attend book clubs, I mean…)