A cold beer, a good book, a hot sudsy bathtub, and good tunes….. mmmmmmmmmhmmmmmmm……
Seriously, I had a pretty shitty week. I’ve spent far too much energy hunting down a check for a gig that I spent far too much energy organizing rehearsals for, and as a result of that missing check and the fact that I handed over a shitload of money that I worked my ass off to make to my new landlord, I’ve been REAL poor, like my checks were bouncing off the walls poor, and think I may have gone 24 hours without eating between yesterday morning and this afternoon… I also dealt with some real petty bullshit in a rehearsal this week that was so incredibly childish and immature it does not warrant describing, and I was called a slut while walking down my street. Kensington does not share the same appreciation for my love of fishnets.
I still haven’t figured out how to be superwoman yet. This week I had myself pretty convinced that I was a shitty Mom, a crap-tastic lover, a fair-weather friend, a scatterbrained sister, an invisible daughter and a dangerously close to being out-of-work singer. I was so down on myself that tonight, when an A train (which had no business being where I was, and confused a lot of passengers besides myself) appeared at the Broadway-Lafayette stop , I sort of wondered if I was supposed to throw myself in front of it….. Ok, not really.
At the end of the day, my bathtub doesn’t judge me, and it’s amazing how good you can make yourself feel when for one moment you are the only person whose needs you are responsible for…….
But ya know what? That’s the thing about relationships, whether they be mother-daughter, friend to friend or the harder kind…. it’s always easier to take care of your own emotional and physical needs because they’re your own. It’s quite another to undertake the well-being of a friend struggling with depression, an autistic son, or a relative struggling with cancer… But it’s a real lonely life when we don’t reach out and try to share in each others joys and sorrows.
So tonight, I retreat to my bathtub, and pull the covers up over my head, and remind myself that it’s okay to fail day in and day out at life, because I’m still in the game, and I refuse to meander mindlessly through the motions. Tomorrow’s another day, and I’ll still be playing.