The List

Feast or Famine. That's what I consider this industry that I am desperately trying to make my career to be. I am either turning down jobs, because I am fully booked, or I hear crickets (not cricuts, though worked on that cute commercial). So I am again unemployed, and have ample time on my hands. Woe is the girl with ample time on her hands. While I was working 12-17 hour days, since like November, I longed for a decent day off. Make that a week. To sleep. To rejuvenate. To re-coop, so that I could fulfill the litany of things I had acquiesced on my To Do List. Number One on that list was/is to MAKE ART! It has been so long now that I feel like the dilettante I had so railed against in grad school, that I am deep in hypocrite territory. So what now? I recently switched HRT from the impregnated horse urine Prempro I was taking to a more liver friendly Combi Patch. Mostly because the quantity of alcohol I am capable of consuming is surreal. Of course, this is more my guilt ridden conscience berating me than actual reality (RE: I'm still a hairs breathalyzer test away from full on AA). But more than that, I've been able to ignore the Nicotine Monster that haunts my dreams. Yes I have FAILED. Big time. And that sux. A lot. Like Major suckarino. Boo. And I'm not sure where to start. This patch has my hormones all in a flux. I was the breakout queen up until a few weeks ago. My relatively pristine complexion had a severe mishap for approximately a month. I have NEVER broken out so badly in the oddest places that I truly felt like I was a pre-pubescent again (OK, I never had breakouts as a teen, but I totally felt like I could be a candidate for Proactiv). NOT FUN. But it seems that the body has finally adjusted (RE: no more erratic breakouts) and recently I had my period. This is significant in that I had not had menses in over 3 months. My doctor informed me that I should not have had menses as soon as I started HRT. But the thing is, I have had regular periods for almost 6 months after starting HRT. She assured me that I should have stopped and if I had menses, I was a strange, irregular, potentially misdiagnosed individual. So with that, I switch HRT medicines and sure enough, begin menses again. What really sucked was that I had gotten rid of all of my period accouchements thinking I would not need them anymore. I was so wrong. So now I have Aunt Flo laughing at me while still in the very real status of being a "young" woman in early menopause. Le sigh. I still believe that I am in early ovarian failure, regardless of what my remaining eggs and ovaries may release. I say that because I am living the very real and significant difference being on HRT has had on my life. But there are definitely other factors going on biologically with my body and that journey has not been so pleasant. Starting with my lack of motivation and drive to actively consider my mental and physical health and wellbeing. I have come to the conclusion that my current apartment is a tomb. Once encased within the living quarters of my dwelling, I have little resistance to escape these four walls and proactively live life. I find myself getting ready for the day, only to discover it has been 4 days since I have left my abode and seen the sun. I fucking live in LA. It's gorgeous outside. Sunny. The PERFECT weather. Almost all the time. And yet, I lollygag. I procrastinate. I curl up in a ball in my bed and stay there. And I HATE it. I am so tired of not living life when left to my own accord. Without a work schedule, I am at a sheer and utter loss. I know, intellectually all of the goals I have planned for me, but it is the implementation that I am weak at. And I am so fucking weak. Goddamnit I am weak. This is not something I am accustomed to. I am the strong one. And suddenly I have to acknowledge that I need help. But from where??

I begin with a list. I like lists, because I get to see, visually, my accomplishments. I get to cross off things. Big things. Little things. All of the in between things. Everything. Sometimes it's as trivial as "take a shower." Sometimes it is "pay such and such bill" or "get oil change." Tomorrow it is proactive. It's business-like. It is get-your-shit-together like. I will attempt to face tomorrow like a job. But rather than monetary reward, I get life credits. I will try to live. A regular, proactive life. And it seems as though all of my posts are about me trying, but that's all I've got at this point. I have to continue to try. And to live. And to experience. Life. All and every aspect of it. To the best of my abilities. They are not as honed as I would like them to be at this moment, but I am still chipping away at the encasement of this dank, dark tomb. Perhaps I should look at the rental ads... but for now, I'll just walk down the steps and go outside.