Mr. Blue Sky

I woke up this morning to day three of being sick. No end in sight. It’s funny how being sick changes the filter on our world. Suddenly preserving my voice has taken the top spot on my priorities list, and scraping up enough money for cough drops and herbal tea is more important than the electric bill.

I already can’t remember what it felt like to breathe without that sound in my chest. Is the need to hear it over and over part of my tendency toward compulsion…does everyone swallow this much when their throat hurts? Maybe.

It isn’t like a stomach virus, of course. I can still go about my day. A stomach virus will make everything else disappear entirely, until it’s only you and the sickness.

While driving to work this morning, I was feeling mostly pissed off about the cough that continues to shred my vocal cords. So I did what I always do when I am stressed, and distracted myself with some music. I recently discovered I can lower my heart rate if I listen to Rubber Soul. It must be the magic of comfort music, or something like that. It isn’t rocket science. But I didn’t put on Rubber Soul this morning, or Revolver (which is only slightly better, I think), because I wanted to be surprised. So I picked a station on Amazon Music, and hoped for the best.  Continue reading

Come Back Later. We’re Temporarily Invisible.

I wasn’t sure I would post anything at all this month. But here I am, only two days past my deadline. Lately I can’t shake the feeling of dread that comes with sharing. I want to take it all back. Everything. The invitation into our world, the social media posts, the things I have written on other topics in other public spaces…all of it.

In a thousand different ways, and in a thousand different moments, I have handed out pieces of myself to a mixed audience. Both in public, and during my daily routine. My humor, heart, stupidity, brilliance, and even cruelty–offered to true friends, fake friends, and strangers. And now it’s all part of my permanent record.

I want to go back to being a mystery. I want to go back to being the nice girl who only occasionally expressed herself through vague lyrics.

Don’t worry. I’ll change my mind.

I know it’s better to have a few people love and support me for who I truly am, than to have many people feel politely drawn to me based on their best guess. And I am slowly learning to stop being so available to “friends” who want me to feel unsure about myself. I am trying to figure out how to throw the invisibility cloak on them, instead.

For the moment, I don’t want there to be places where someone can find me. So how do I offer an update on our lives in this frame of mind?  Continue reading