Archive for November, 2011

What’s Up?

November 9, 2011

Someone asked me recently what it is like to be in my head. I don’t think it is so different from anyone else. But, maybe it is.
I wake up and do what I need to do to get my son out the door and to school. Not much thinking yet.
After that is the daily fight within about whether or not to go back to bed, or get going.
I worry constantly about money, about not being good enough. I think about what I have to do, and sometimes I need to go to my job at the library.
Every day at some point I go into my studio and turn on news and write Ulysses onto gloves. Sometimes that is all I have time to do. I listen to the news and wonder how everything can have gone so wrong. Then wonder if things are just normal, because really during every time in history there have been terrible things. Wars, Nazi’s, tsunami’s, other fascists and dictators, serial killers, slavery, genocides, oppression of women, witch hunting, poverty, droughts, bad television, insipid music, general stupidity.
I usually try to clean something but whatever I clean it leaves me realizing that there is so much more to clean. I wonder why most people’s homes look neater and cleaner than my home. I only have one husband, one teenager, and one dog and two cats. How hard is it to keep a place clean? I think about the big and small projects to do around the house. I wonder if my life would feel different if my house was perfectly clean all over.
I usually listen a bit to an audio book. Right now it is Private Life by Jane Smiley. It’s good. And it is sad. Things were pretty awful for women during the time period of this book. But the main character never once talked about needing to clean anything.
I think about all the things I do not know and wonder how I can learn more and know so little. I wish I had time to listen to an hour of music every day. I get mad at myself for not making the time.
I usually question my ability to make good art while I make it. I think about my husband and wonder if he wishes he had married someone more conventional who earns more money and has a proper job.
Eventually I need to make the child a snack and dinner and usually have to take him someplace. To a class, to a friend’s house. I need to walk the dog. I make supper for the child. I have a glass of wine and sometimes watch more news, sometimes not. I constantly check e mail and facebook to see if anyone has discovered me. Nobody has.
I think about what I would say to various people if I could talk to them. Obama, Mitt Romney, my Boston art dealer who owes me money.
I think about my age and wish I were ten years younger because then I wouldn’t feel so quite behind. I think about the two people I know who are dying, right now. Who are living with a terminal illness, and who I cannot help.
I usually read a little of the Times or the ProJo. I talk to a friend or two. I e mail my mom and another friend or two.
I make myself work some in the evening. Then I watch television with Andy and Noah. Sometimes dark things like Dexter. Sometimes sweet romantic things like Glee. Sometimes silly things like Modern Family.
Time for bed. I go to bed and always read and always feel guilty about not having worked hard enough this day. I think about famous people who woke at five a.m. or went to bed at three a.m. so they could write a book. I am glad to spend time with my family but also I wish I could just work.
In bed I read whatever book I am reading. Right now it is Farenheit 451. I pat my cat and turn out the light. I am asleep in a nanosecond.
That’s pretty much the same for everyone, right?