Weekend Onesie:
Adrift
I locked all my keys in my car.
I locked myself out of my house.
I couldn't find my billfold on three separate occasions.
I misplaced my keys over a dozen times.
It's a period of transition and, as it is for everyone, change is difficult for me.
I misplaced my keys over a dozen times.
It's a period of transition and, as it is for everyone, change is difficult for me.
We're already ten days into April. (Why, suddenly, is the world in such a rush?)
The weather keeps changing; cold, cool, hot, cool. So I keep changing jackets. And I keep my keys in the pockets of said jackets. And because I am transitioning from this jacket to that jacket to no jacket, I frequently forget where I've left my keys.
The weather keeps changing; cold, cool, hot, cool. So I keep changing jackets. And I keep my keys in the pockets of said jackets. And because I am transitioning from this jacket to that jacket to no jacket, I frequently forget where I've left my keys.
It's like I can't keep track of my props.
My big black leather bag (the black hole of man purses), which serves as my world safety net, has been dumped and sorted so many times. I have cursed myself and others and the keys themselves, blaming my brain for being too stupid to keep track of the one thing I need to get from A to B.
It doesn't help that I'm transitioning from being relatively sedentary (due to covid) to much more active. There are suddenly all these health-related appointments to get to - on time - which is a concept now somewhat foreign to my mind. I lose track of time and keep downplaying the amount I actually need to get all cleaned up and out the door. And once out the door, there always seems to be something - an object - that I have forgotten (billfold, cell phone, house keys, car keys, wet wipes).
It makes me feel crazy and incompetent.
But I am also very out of practice.
I know this is temporary. The weather will settle into a single season and I will get my act together.
But, in the meantime, I struggle with myself... against myself.
I always feel a bit lost between acts. Once I recognize where I am in the story? I snap to like a soldier. But until then?
I feel adrift.
My big black leather bag (the black hole of man purses), which serves as my world safety net, has been dumped and sorted so many times. I have cursed myself and others and the keys themselves, blaming my brain for being too stupid to keep track of the one thing I need to get from A to B.
It doesn't help that I'm transitioning from being relatively sedentary (due to covid) to much more active. There are suddenly all these health-related appointments to get to - on time - which is a concept now somewhat foreign to my mind. I lose track of time and keep downplaying the amount I actually need to get all cleaned up and out the door. And once out the door, there always seems to be something - an object - that I have forgotten (billfold, cell phone, house keys, car keys, wet wipes).
It makes me feel crazy and incompetent.
But I am also very out of practice.
I know this is temporary. The weather will settle into a single season and I will get my act together.
But, in the meantime, I struggle with myself... against myself.
I always feel a bit lost between acts. Once I recognize where I am in the story? I snap to like a soldier. But until then?
I feel adrift.
--- ---
Catch a wave, dears.
Find your storyline.
Snap to.
- uptonking from Wonderland Burlesque
Waiting In Vain - Annie Lennox













































































































