Gah I can’t think

Well I have been slam-banging along for the past couple of weeks, running into walls, wrestling (I have an urge to say “rasslin'” here, like I’m doing things with alligators) with nursing homes and assisted living facilities and anxiety-ridden relatives and ridiculous therapy contracts and elder lawyers and may I just say that even without being there in the same city or state as my old mama (who is getting really cranky about being in a nursing home, even if it is temporary, and the jury is still out on that) it’s really time consuming to the point of disrupting the time-space continuum (whatever I mean by that) and gah I can’t think. My life is interrupting my blogging and it really chaps my hide.

And this week I’ve got company Wednesday through Saturday, a bunch of yodeling folk singers descending on Casa de Bosquechica on Friday, a trip to Santa Fe on Sunday for a hideaway-retreat with the missus and a visit to the state legislature on Monday to advocate for our right to have the partner benefits that other married people can just take for granted, thank you very much. And I can’t find my damn photo album from Africa, which I’ve been trying to find to post in this piece I was working on last week, because ever since the mom-stroke thing, it’s been hard to focus forward; my brain keeps doing “my life in review”, which is just a wretchedly self-absorbed response to her pending mortality (pending?).

The persistence of the “life in review” thinking made me decide to do a two-piece writing practice: “5 years ago, I . . . . ” followed by “In 5 years, I . . . ” to help me shift back into where I’m going instead of where I’ve been. What will I be doing in 5 years? Well, if this past couple of weeks is any indication, I’ll still be working on this freakin’ “freewrite” about what I did five years ago…….and geez, that’s just wrong.

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