Friday, January 28, 2011

umph.

I hit a wall this week and I mean that both literally and figuratively.  Literally, I hit the wall in my parking garage at work.  I do that sometimes when I'm pulling in in the morning, usually running late.  Depending on how late I'm running, I might tap it just a bit or actually give it a nice 'umph'.  This week it was an umph.  This year is already an umph and it's only January.  I thought that by strategically not doing certain things that I would surely breeze my way through this year of twenty eleven - or whatever the kids are calling it - but it would seem that the universe had other plans for yours truly.  I got a big fat umph that makes me want to curl up on the couch or bed or any place soft (and really sometimes it doesn't even have to be soft) and turn out the lights and tune out the world for a while because I'm certain that given the chance, the universe will smack me with more umph and really I've had enough for the month so if the next smack down could please hold off til February - of even March - I would be grateful. Thank you.

Yes, that's where I'm at.  But even at the root of this cynicism and, let's just say it - funk - lies the heart and soul of a painful optimist.  While I fully acknowledge that my crisis of umph may be small on a global scale, I'm pretty confident that I'm emotionally not capable of handling much more at this point.  Call me weak but I call it tired.  All of that said, I like to think that on that same global scale, I'm a really good strong person and surely the universe has a wah-bam of good just awaitin around the corner for me, right?  And for the record I'm willing to wait for it, although it might be from the confines of that bed or couch, I will wait for it but I choose to wallow for just a bit longer.  If you typically hear from me outside of Schovillova then you probably haven't heard from me.  But don't worry because here I am, my mom, sister, and Kevin can vouch for my existence.  I'm at work.  I'm at the studio.  And there's light, I can see it.   But you just can't see me under my cloak of invisibility.  I'll come out eventually.

That's all I got.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'm with you. Lova ya, Mom

Queen Kandis said...

I'm sending good wah-bam energy your way.