In truth, the frust rating isn't all that high. Life is good, people love me, etc. Last night we went to a Xmas party and no one wanted us to leave, which was good, but we did anyway, which was also good. In the ever-tightening balance between having fun, getting shit done, and sleeping, the latter is starting to get some of its due, and this pleases me.
Still and all, I could be doing a lot more. Right now I'm in the middle of missing a deadline at four thirty of a Friday afternoon and I just can't focus on that right now, I need to write out what else I need to be doing. These are things everyone knows about and no one really knows why I can't make time for them. Which probably means I'll have time for them once I, you know, do this and that and those and these and stuff.
1) Get my brass chops back. It'll take two years to be able to play my horn as I want to, a year anyway before any audience should be afflicted with it. Yet whenever I hear some seriously fun music (e.g. Lindsey Stirling) I get all HEY! I wanna do that! And I could, too. Or could have, if I hadn't quit right after high school in an anti-social fit of wanting to be H.P. Lovecraft.
2) Get my sorry old ass into shape. It's not too far off, really, but this past autumn (and summer and spring) have seen me pretty much capitulate to my essential laziness and the mistaken belief that I don't have time for that today, maybe tomorrow. Well, that's bullshit, and since I have by no means given up on using my access to certain types of social people to enhance my (and their) sex lives, there's no wisdom in not compensating for my advanced age with a hot bod. A matter at issue of course is that I'm not really motivated by that a whole lot. I'm well and happily coupled to my partner, I just get signals from some others (down into their twenties, for heaven's sakes) that given her blessing I could be using what's left of my not-too-old-yet life to make a few more lasting memories,and I know from personal experience that if I do not I will come to regret it. Life is for the living. (I sort of went off subject there. It's not all about sex. But, as useful as it is to be swift and strong, let's face it, sexual adventure is a pretty good easily-grasped motivation.)
3) Write the fucking novel already. Now and then I get into an excited state of research and the envisioning of characters, but I still have yet to create the space-time I need to push my mind into storytelling mode. It will help to start reading fiction again, if I find any worth the investment. The stuff of my youth (Conan, Bond) absolutely does not do the trick, sorry. It will also help to unload my psyche of all the Stuff I've been writing about (and will write about again), and that process is indeed under way. But there's a lot to do there, so I'm not sure doing just that and only that until "done" is necessarily so wise. Gives me a sense of mission, though, and since the goal is to have an office free of clutter and the constant nagging of unfinished business, I really do need to press forward on that.
Meanwhile my public-spaces metal artist could use my presence at the house, but I have got to figure this thing out that I've been getting behind on at work, even if the weekend before Christmas has started, because, you know. Job.
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2 comments:
There are many things I could say, but why? You've said it all here. I have all the same motivations except:
1) I won't have to work for two years to get my chops back because I still play the pipes. I just need to woodshed for a month or two.
2) My old ass is in shape, and I keep it that way not for libidinous possibilities, but mostly for pain avoidance with a little pride and vanity thrown in. I don't want to turn into a flatulent old suburban fart like so many others around here, but I also don't want to have to start gobbling ibuprofen like peanut M&Ms. So, other stuff steps aside for the workout.
3) What I need to write is another thing considerably shorter than a novel. I did one that worked OK, and doing it again is proving difficult. It's got to be something I can put some emotion behind. Lately I'm too tired. On a these days. One a these days!
Thanks for stopping by. Took me awhile to figure out who Don was, but then when I saw your page, I remembered. Sort of.
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