La Danza Agitata

I bury myself in my layout/design jobs so I don’t have to deal with all the messy stuff of life.

What messy life stuff are you referring to Donna? Ah, you know:

1. my unhappy and illin' father.
2. the big D – death.
3. Monday’s follow up appointment with my back surgeon (four spinal tumors down – two or three still to go *sigh*) – how long do I have before the next slice-age? No clean answer to that little query. *mega sigh!*
4. I see my cornea minder next week. I totes fear the word. More surgery? Or is my left eye just a hopeless motherfucker? Could this troublesome orb possibly, FINALLY be doing AOK right now? Do I dare hope?
5. MAJOR changes on the home front:

A) we have a new visitor cat – he’s a husky tiger boy. We’ve named him Thor. Will he and Umlaut get along?
B) I have a new roomie! This, naturally, inspires shitloads of concerns:

• I’m a dreadfully human human – will my snoring, farts and other, assorted weird quirks and habits annoy the shit outta Ten? Who could blame him? Not I!
• Will he, despite my pronounced poot hobby, be happy here on the Eastern Sea…with yurs fucking truly?
• Will I take good care of Ten or will I be a selfish twat and allow him to croak, like TAB before him. Yes, yezzzzzz, intellectually I KNOW that I’m not responsible for TAB’s all-too-soon demise. Try convincing my delphically insecure, Queen of Guilt self of that!
• Will my nervous pervous freakazoid self annoy the ever-livin’ shit outta Ten? Again, who could blame him?

Em, I guess you can see that it’s not so much the new cat who’s worrying me.

And OF COURSE there’s the desecration of our country by the astronomically cruel, shortsighted, greedheaded, racist and woman hating piles of demon poo of the Republi/Fascist party and their Insane Clown Leader, the Hater in Chief. THAT'S more than enough to keep me in a slow, perma-boil of agitata all on its own.

There ain’t nothin’ I can do to fix so many of these jitter/fear inspiring sparks BUT I CAN calm the fuck down. How? That’s not just a switch that I can flip, right? (*sigh* I SO wish!)

For starters, now that we’re home and the Y is right here, just a mile up Sea Street, I can jump in the damn pool, swim a mess ‘o’ laps or take a spin on the elliptical. Exercise doesn’t chill me all the way out BUT it’s a big ass help. I can think more clearly and reasonably during and afterward. It’s nature’s Valium. Bonus! It also keeps me from becoming an epically plump butterball. Exercise – neat little thing, eh?

Also too, it’s time to start a new painting AND set up my wheel. Ten’s gonna help me with that ancient, used kiln I was given a few zillion years back. I haven’t fired it yet as I feared burning down the house. That would suck. Ya know?

Art and exercise. Exercise and art – may not remove the soulless, power mad, pestilent fiends from power AND bless them with personality transplants BUT it’ll help me cope.