Everyday Happenings: Forgetting Me

Sometimes I don't know how to start these. Its pretty rare, but there are still those moments where the exhaustion just takes over. It's like there's a net over my brain. My brain becomes a little flipping fish, trying to escape the net. That creates more exhaustion sometimes. Eventually though, I flip and I swim and escape back into the wide ocean that is this creative outlet.

That's enough metaphors for the night.

Life is really different right now. And, I'm going to say that it's going to be really different for a long time, but that means that eventually it will be the new normal.

For now though, it's different and I'm mostly just tired.

I miss the late nights when I start writing at 1130 because the inspiration has just kicked in. I miss the sleepy mornings when the dog and I get up, go to the bathroom, and then jump back into bed.

But, most of all, I miss this.

A part of me feels like I've put the true me on a shelf. It's getting dusty and it's too high for me to reach her. More metaphors, I know, but you get it. I have to do so much at work, and then I'm tired when I get home, so there's not much room for anything else.

True me is a night owl. Not the one who will stay out until 3AM, but the one who puts on awesome pajamas, clears off her desk, chooses the right indie album, and clicks away at the keyboard. She has twinkling lights on outside even though she's at her desk and can't see them. She occasionally gets up and dances to an especially inspirational indie song. She doesn't think about tomorrow that much. She sleeps in and then makes sure that walking on dewy grass is one of the first things that she does when she gets up.

So, you can understand my frustration. It's about growing up and moving on. But, still, I feel like I've given so much up in the last couple of years in exchange for happiness and success.

I was swimming a couple of weeks ago, and there was a section at the end of the lane that was ice cold. I thought it was motivation to swim faster, but it was still uncomfortable to get through.

And then I told myself, "What are you doing? You're Catherine. You're the girl who use to jump in the river on rafting trips."

Oh yeah, I thought back. The river was green, it was so cold. And I did it without hesitation, even though I had my grey Gonzaga hoodie on. I jumped and the icy, green water hit my chest hard, but the gasp upon emerging was fantastic.

I'd forgotten.

We played tennis twice this week. We haven't played in over a year. I can still hit the ball into the corner of the court. I can still lunge for the ball so that my foot makes that satisfying "scrape" on the pavement.

But, I haven't played in the crisp Spring months in so long. I haven't worn a long sleeve shirt. I haven't run the lines and conquered the stairs like I use to. I told K yesterday what we use to do for a warm-up: a mile, sets of stairs, and then line drills. Then I did a line drill, and ran backwards better than I did in high school.

Still, I'd forgotten.

I was putting a pre-wedding CD together this week. Its so that I can daydream in the car on the way to work, because that's prime daydreaming time. But, I wanted to put ceremony music in and didn't have any. So, I downloaded everything I could on iTunes. Then I played my discoveries on the computer, and the sweet classical music filled the room. Like it use to. Whether it was on an album or from my fingers, classical music was in my life. I wanted to master not only the piano, but my knowledge of that kind of music. Maybe it stems from my childhood when my Dad had all of these classical cassette tapes. Or maybe it was just because I had a piano and I knew how to play it. I could play to the point where I locked my own mind out, and subconsciously my fingers would move, until the Clare de Lune moved me to tears.

So, I played that music the other day, and I'd forgotten how wonderful it makes me feel.