New Year’s came in with not so much a bang but a rather drunk woo and possibly a sloppy kiss or two?
Followed by several hours of throwing up.
Now, as much as I’d fully admit to being hung over, unfortunately it wasn’t one of those cases. No, dude. I didn’t get like totally wasted. No, I wasn’t like SO drunk?
Gallstones have managed to ruin my holidays as in the past two weeks I’ve had two attacks and ended up couch bound for at least four days--which is to say much better than the other two days of throwing up for twelve hours each.
I say this, not for pity--well at least not for the throwing up part, but to explain why I may have felt a bit of a cabin fever case going on. Cooped up indoors, in my own home, feeling like shit has left me feeling exhausted, lonely and more than a little scattered. Whenever I do have visitors I end up blathering and babbling, wishing I could stop myself but feeling generally so THRILLED to have company other than my dogs or mother that I latch on like a tick.
I’m out for blood people.
And this is probably one of the (many) reasons I’ll never have children. If I can’t spend the better part of two weeks cooped up at home with /adults/, I do not want to see myself after spending maternity leave with a ... ugh, child.
Now, I’d love to say I got plenty done but unfortunately aside from finishing a season of The Next Iron Chef, I’ve managed to do NOTHING. You’d think considering how ... particular I am about writing posts that this would be prime time but I haven’t been up for it. The one day I was, I spent the better part of a half hour staring at a blank word page and praying for the words to come to me. Not to say that I’m out of material, I’ve actually been trying to write a couple of different posts over the last couple of weeks with, obviously, little success.
Either way, today is my last day off from work. My last day to really rise up and be able to seize the opportunity to have some ‘me’ time and write. Anyone who knows me, knows that I can be pretty picky on the setting that I require to write. No television, no people, little to no noise (music is sometimes helpful, other times it just hinders) and generally during the darker hours of the day. Either way, I’d hoped to be able to churn out a post or two.
Unfortunately, my very scattered brain had other ideas.
Between some social drama, work, the promise of school, holidays, the family obligations, upcoming birthdays... I’ve been more than a little occupied with planning, dealing and otherwise not thinking about posts.
It did take me a bit of a vacation to really realize how scattered I had been feeling. However, today I realized that perhaps my inability to write also stemmed from my ability to focus on any one thing for very long. I mean, aside from the marathon of The Next Iron Chef.
In the attempt to focus myself onto something, anything really, I took out G’s camera to Central Park and decided that perhaps a nice walk by myself would help me.
Now, I’ll be the first to admit this wasn’t necessarily my first choice. Downtown is definitely more my scene for taking pictures. I love the architecture, the textures, the streets, the lights. I’m a city girl, born and bred and so taking pictures surrounded by relative ‘wilderness’ wasn’t exactly top of my list. But being lazy has it’s perks and so I figured I’d try something new.
At first I was a little worried. No inspiration came to me and setting off with mon dieu! no ipod (left at M’s place while getting ready for said New Year’s event) was pretty scary. What if someone... talked to me?! Ugh, the horrors.
However about part way down my first trail I managed to calm myself. Inspiration did come with frost untouched by the sun’s long reach and despite having no ipod--or perhaps because of having no ipod, I was able to have a long think to myself.
Unfortunately given the time of the year and my hipster instincts to dress for fashion rather than function (hey, my winter jacket would be a bitch to maneuver in, obviously the leather jacket that provides no warmth was the better idea...) I had to turn back. However, with the long trek to the closest Starbucks to warm up my frozen fingers, I was left with a general sense of what was wrong and realize that yeah, maybe I am the problem.
And isn’t that the first step?
So while I may not have solved my social drama, or managed to work up energy to do much else, at least I can feel a little less bad about changing back into pjs and watching the premiere of Top Chef All Stars. Plus: semi-cool pictures!
And hey, at least I made a new friend.