Over the last few weeks, I’ve been working on a compilation project. I’ve gone back through those first hundred blogs and did a reassessment.
Where have I been
Where am I going?
What patterns emerge (good habits, bad habits, hidden habits that one doesn’t see unless one has a massive sampling of data to analyze).
The results were, quite frankly, stunning.
Not my progress as an author mind you, stunning as in eye-opening.
Doing a massive swoop like that brought back memories of Grandma and other losses. I knew that would happen. I cried a little. Memories of happy little “jump and squeal” moments. I smiled a little. Bits and pieces of memories not recorded in the blog, but happening in real life nonetheless made me cringe, cry, and smile.
You know, life. In all its up-ness and down-ness.
And then I noticed odd little things, that, well, made me shake my head. Mostly with Little Miss. Lots of cat issues. And then…
I noticed lots of “guys” who make appearances all over the blog. Some are fleeting mentions (like pre-pandemic Face Mask Guy) while others are constants in my world.
I have “my guys” meaning the hubs and the son. They lift things, reach high-up things, make noise, make messes, always need fed, interrupt, and generally encourage me to keep writing. I’ll put up with the noise and hollow stomachs and keep my guys.
I have a Web Guy who keeps the blog alive, guards the gate of website/tech purgatory, and generally nags me about where he landed on the Top 100 list. I’ll put up with the nagging and keep my Web Guy.
I have an Eye Guy who tortures me with stinging drops and searing slit lamps and generally helps me not go blind. I’ll put up with the torture and keep my Eye Guy.
I have a Mexican Restaurant Guy who feeds our family when I can’t bring myself to stand in the kitchen and decipher that all-too-complicated list of directions on the back of the macaroni box. No complaints at all about the Mexican Restaurant Guy, only that he closes the restaurant up for the night and some holidays and doesn’t serve breakfast. I can put up with the limited hours of availability and keep this guy. And all of his friends, too.
And I have Back Guy who I’ve been seeing quite a bit of lately. A chiropractor that keeps me upright with adjustments of the spine and attitude.
He pops, cracks, stretches, and otherwise snaps me back into alignment.
I saw him yesterday and surprised him because I was so off-kilter.
“Wow. You’re lopsided today.”
No kidding, Sherlock. That might be why I randomly kiss hallway walls as my knee gives and I grasp empty air and vertical planes for some kind of stability. Otherwise known as face-in-wall syndrome.
And then the popping, cracking, stretching, and snapping commenced with a fevered furry as he worked to alleviate what ailed me.
He called me lopsided again and sent me on my way. With a follow-up for next week, lest I lean too far the other direction.
Thanks, Back Guy. (Eye Guy would tell me at this point I’m a few clicks off normal. I think they must share my records with each other.)
And as I laid there and he popped every vertebra in my spine, I remembered the blog review. Then I got mad because he’s right.
Back Guy nailed it.
I’m lopsided in my learning. Lopsided in goal-setting. I have lopsided attention spans.
Even my Little Miss Muse dances with an ever-so-slight-sway-to-the-left, occasionally causing her to bounce off random walls with her face as she trips over her high heels.
Lopsided. All-or-nothing at the expense of a well-rounded existence.
I’ve no idea how to fix it. I think I’m hard-wired to hyper focus on one thing at a time, despite appearing to juggle brightly colored balls belonging to four other people’s circus clowns.
Focus on publishing, no new words written.
Write new words, no editing happens.
Caretake others in times of need, no groceries in our house and Mexican Guy’s phone rings off the hook.
Insert any life activity here, and I can find a way to tilt it off-center.
Is there a Guy for this? (Some of you are nodding your heads up and down real slow as you read this, and you’re thinking of your Guy who sits in a nice chair, legs crossed, with a nice notebook while you recline on the leather couch, tissue in hand, and spill out the details of your own lopsided week. If you want, you can email me the name of your Guy, and I’ll seriously consider adding him to my list.)
I’ll put up with Back Guy’s popping, cracking, and stating the obvious to stay upright and mobile.
Because we all need someone, once in a while, to point out just how lopsided we are.