March 24, 2009

9:47 p.m.

Night

I'm really all done with the cold weather.

I was a putzfrau today; cleaned the bejabbers out of Rose's house, and she sitting in her big recliner after tooth implant surgery today, doped out on a Vicodin and coping with the aching in jaw and head. I scrubbed that place. I scrubbed parts I'd never scrubbed before. I hadn't even finished dusting the downstairs when she offered a lunch break, and as it was after 1:00 I said yes. We at lunch and chatted. She was feeling a little peppier by then. After lunch she said, "Do you want to take a break and walk down to the antique store with me and look at a chair?" Maybe she forgot I was already taking a break, but I said, "Okay, I'll take both my breaks at once!" We walked the block down the street but the place was closed today. No chair in sight through the window. Back we went and I resumed the putzing.

It was like a recurring dream, of cleaning Rose's house. It just kept going on and on and on... only it was REAL, and I was still in there cleaning...

Then Marc came home and there was another break, and he asked if I wanted to go back through the woods and look over at My House and see if the son was there yet. So we did that, and no car in sight, so Marc called him. They had a nice chat and the guy is coming on Friday for a week. That times out pretty well; I'm touring Thursday through part of Monday, so I hope we'll be able to arrange seeing the house Tuesday next week or later. Meanwhile if Marc wants to go in there before I get back I told him to go for it.

Rose had an idea of someone from whom we might be able to borrow a down payment if things happen quickly. Dar could pay it back fast so I'm not worried about that.

Somehow I finally finished cleaning, and two loads of laundry, and Pearl came home from her first or second day of her new job working for an apartment complex, and Rose made huevos rancheros, Rose style, for dinner because she couldn't eat anything crunchy.

I showed her my again-flaring skin, my hands (I had a lovely week's respite with the Pred, and now it's back to the circus), strange little things happening on my face that she thought might be rosacea. "Welcome to middle age," she said. I thought that in a couple of years I'll be unviewable, and she assured me that she sees LOTS of middle aged women in her practice and I'm really doing very well and not to worry about it. We talked further about my ongoing paralysis over getting anything done, and not even enjoying my creative things because there always seems to be a sudden deadline and all this pressure to make money and not be a slacker, and what the hell am I doing with my life if I'm not a touring musician? This life that I crafted to be like this, just what I wanted -- and I have no idea how to proceed. "I've just about thrown my hip out, trying to kick my own ass into gear," I said. "It's just not working! I'm afraid of taking any step, so I take none." Being tired all the time doesn't help -- and you'd think I'd have the stamina of a horse, with all the vitamins I take. She wants me to try an antidepressant -- I forget the name; it was one I hadn't heard of -- so I said I would try it. But if it makes me sleepy, or keeps me awake all night, or interferes with my orgasms, forget it.

So now I'm home, I've had chats with Dar and Eagle, I've messed around on Facebook, and I'm really tired. Tomorrow is my last day here this week. I have to straighten this place out for Eagle's visit next week -- she comes the day after I return from Philly. I hope we make money this weekend.