The past seven or ten days turned into one of those crappy periods where I just can't seem to get it together and my guilt over (and frustration at) not being employed outside the house seems to dominate my thoughts and I really just phone it in most of the time.
I served the same not-so-great "leftover stew" (i.e., pull out all those Tupperware containers lingering in the fridge, throw it in a pot, add some stock + spices, then tell my family "oh, you'll EAT it and you'll LIKE it, Buster) three days in a row last week. I tried to be sneaky and mix it up as lunches and dinners, throw a little grated Parm on top, even made fresh, hot cheddar-garlic biscuits one night to go with it...but it was still the same pot of sucky leftovers that still suck when they are stirred together and simmered for 20 minutes.
I keep knitting the same thing over and over, because it's easy. I tried making something else, and after knitting it to near-completion and ripping it out four times, I gave up and made another Milo (#3 in about as many months, but out of cotton this time). I haven't touched that sewing machine, even though my head is stuffed full of projects I want to work on. My "project box" full of almost-done decorating stuff sits getting dusty in the corner. My camera stays in its protective bag most days. I wander around the house repeating out loud lines that I should be typing, in hopes that I'll remember them. I was doing great with the writing stuff for a while, self-imposed deadlines and mandatory page counts and all that, but not lately. There has been so little time for the real, honest work of writing that I'm not even sure I can do it any more.
A neighbor asked me to take some photos of his kids, which I did, and now he's asked me to photograph an event at his church. I desperately want to do right by him, because he's a good man and he's counting on me. I also desperately want to be a better photographer and I can't figure out how. Nothing I read in books seems to stick; we don't have the money (or with R's crazy work schedule, the time) for a class; I don't know any other photographers. I feel envious when I see great photos by other people. Envious, and a little angry, because I can't do what they do. I'd love to be able to tweak the controls on my DSLR and get what I want out of it, to have long conversations with other camera nuts about f-stops and Photoshop actions. So far? I can't even change the shutter speed. Oy. The user's manual makes me go cross-eyed trying to digest it all, and though it came with DVD's, somehow I have not, in nearly two years, managed to find a spare hour or two to watch them. Again I say: oy.
To tell you the truth, I have been in an ever-increasing funk since Alex Chilton died. I can't say for sure that this caused it, but that seems to have been the tipping point. I would just like to tip back soon.
Edited to add: Oh, look. Now, because I am so off my game and not paying attention, I managed to post three posts in one day instead of saving the drafts for later this week like I intended. Niiiiice.