26 October 2007

You May Be Suffering from a Condition Called "Life"

I used to have a Callahan cartoon hanging on the wall of my old cubicle. It said: "You may be suffering from a condition called 'Life'... ask your physician about a new treatment called a swift kick in the ass..."

I think it might be time to get in touch with my doctor. I have a lot on my plate this next month. I've also been trying to grapple with how my life has been going over the past few weeks, and the results are not so pleasant. Many of my internal monologues are beginning: "If only I had... I wish I would have..." I feel like someone put the Pluperfect Subjunctive lesson of a Spanish for Dummies tape on a permanent loop.

Obviously, I've had a lot on my mind. To add to my list of complaints, things around me aren't quite working right. For example, my alarm clock is a paltry little travel alarm. I've had it for years and it serves its purpose well, despite the years of sustained abuse that has left its plastic frame cracked and dented. One of my favorite features of this clock is a temperature display. Currently, the thermometer on the clock reads 93.5 degrees. That can't be right because if I were to venture a guess, I'd say that the temperature in my drafty old apartment is pushing 50 tops. It's really cold in here. I'd turn on the heat, but the noise is really distracting.

Okay, so an alarm clock isn't a big deal, especially considering that the time is correct. I probably need to replace the battery. But I am continually running into a number of snafus- some of which are probably imaginary. The clock is a good example. When it comes to dealing with the problem, I can identify a potential remedy, but I can't find the impetus to take care of it.

Instead of mustering any sense of urgency, I've been retreating into myself. This must be a hazard of living alone. I don't think the shyness I've exemplified lately is naturally occurring. Something has turned up the amplitude of my introversion. The fact that my work has (temporarily) been largely independent in nature hasn't helped much either, I'm sure.

I probably need to give myself more credit. Let's hope a self-congratulatory pat on the back does the job of a swift kick in the ass. I won't be headed to the doctor anytime soon... who thinks up these atrocious health insurance plans?


Mead said...

Ah, but soon you will be dramaturging two shows at the same time. Surely that will cure your spiritual displasia, as nothing else can! However: not to discount your state of mind in any way, but could some of your malaise be Portland's increasingly dark and dank climate? Sure makes me want to stay in bed. And I actually LIKE it.

It's my personal belief that a lot of psychic sludge gets introduced into our lives when we put up with stuff. Nothing's easier to succumb to, of course, because annoying little things accumulate by accretion. Until one day your life suddenly seems to be all about the stuff you're putting up with! It takes energy to copy with a myriad of small things that aren't supporting your life. Your alarm clock is one such bit of stuff.

Mead said...

What is The Upstart Dramaturg and when can I start reading it??

k. crow said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
k. crow said...

oops, I had some unfinished thoughts...

Thanks for your wise words. Indeed, I do have a tendency to get sad, S.A.D. or downright depressed. Sometimes it is good to iterate the experience.

Luckily, I'm feeling very much in my element after the first rehearsal. I think I needed that concrete event to make the last few weeks make more sense. I love the rehearsal process... maybe more than I should.

The Upstart Dramaturg now has its own domain http://upstartdramaturg.com. You may glance over at it now, but due to the accumulation of psychic sludge (and a tragic dropping of the laptop), it will be a more adequate experience on Monday night. Or, given my procrastination skills, the wee hours of Tuesday morning. It's my personal experiment in dramaturgical transparency.

Mead, are you up for some tea and conversation sometime soon?

Mead said...

With you -- always! But my sainted mother and her sainted sister arrive this Tuesday for a WEEK (eek), so we'll have to postpone slightly....hope that's okay....