Self-Perturbations

Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree of Contrast.

I’m mad at myself. I don’t have any particular reason to be, but I am.

In fact, it’s been a really good day. I was in charge of my whole  organization  today  and  nothing  fell  apart— unless something happened after I took an extreeeeeeeemely late lunch at the end of the day. I’m always surprised whenever they let me be in charge, ever since my suggestion  about  replacing  “Casual  Friday”  with   “Spandex Day.”

I had a blast at the movies tonight and bought some “dating clothes” as Shannon and I like to call them. You know, the sexy and feminine things I can’t wear to work. (No spandex.)

I had  a great  meditation  and  made  a yummy  corn soufflé. I made arrangements  to get back on my exercise regimen since my knee seems to be up to trying out the leg extensions again.

The house is sparkly clean, though I have boxes of stuff to be put away in the halls and a ton of clean clothes ready for the closet. And I still  have to re-organize  the whole office and do some more painting, but  the  main part of the house, and my bedroom, look great. And the doors to the girls’ rooms are closed.

So let’s see, that hits my “sectors” of work, fun, spirituality,  health,  home.  And  the  fringes  of  the  romance “sector,”  if  you  count   shopping  for  potential  social events.

And yet, I’m having a terrible time getting motivated to get my projects finished. I know exactly what I need to do and how to do it, but  the muse isn’t here this week and whereas I normally plow right on through the work with or without my muse, I’m perturbed that I just want to sleep instead and the creativity sector is not so hot at the moment.

It didn’t help my disgust factor either that someone tonight applauded the scum-bucket doctor who wouldn’t leave me alone several  months ago and told me what a wonderful person he was, and all I could think about was what a liar this doc is. It bugs me that he’s a psychiatrist and that he messes with peoples’ heads when his own is so messed  up.  He couldn’t  have a simple  conversation with me without stringing  lie to  lie to lie. Maybe that’s what the downturn was for the evening. I don’t know. It rankled my sense of integrity to hear good things about someone’s public facade when I know the real man underneath the lies. I’m just glad I never went out with the guy. Then again, maybe it was just a reminder tonight that my standards are still in perfect working order.

And yet, I’m the one feeling deficient tonight. I’m being hard on myself, I know. I recognize that. I recognize, too, that this is the result of the emotional  wringer over the past couple of months and that  emotions  have the biggest ill effect on creative pursuits.

But I’ll be glad when this feeling passes and when I can get some  new stuff churned out. Later this week, I think, but not tonight.