Writing AND Running in One Week: A Summer Recess Miracle!
My summer writing group met this week. Three out of four of us met, at least, and it was a good beginning. We did chit chat for a few minutes too long at the beginning (which is against the rules), but then we each buried ourselves in our writing in one of the small meeting rooms in the library. We worked at a table in silence for nearly three hours. It was lovely.
It took me a while to begin, though. I have, as I've mentioned before, several writing projects floating around in my head, but I thought it was probably best to keep it simple and just begin writing a poem. I've been reading poems and reading about the craft of poetry almost every day since school let out, but I haven't written a poem for months. So it seemed like a good beginning point, for both my summer writing endeavors AND my participation in the group.
It was strange, though, writing in the presence of other people . . . and other people I know at that. I'm used to writing in the presence of sleeping dogs (who aren't really sleeping, but rather waiting with their eyes closed for me to feed them breakfast). I managed to get over it, although it did take me almost the entire morning to work on six lines of a poem. I am the slowest m*****f****r when it comes to writing. I mean, like, painfully slow.
Of course, writing groups come at a price. I felt like I paid dearly for my three hours of writing later in the day, when Little Miss Talkalot had a meltdown after school because I hadn't come to the during-the-day science fair. (Before she went to school I'd told her I was going -- and we did go -- to the after school for-working-parents science fair . . . but I was missed at 11 a.m., apparently.)
In the midst of this the house is still a mess and I'm still really, really slowly getting my work life back on track (organizing, prepping for the fall, planning), and my health is increasing only in tiny, tiny increments (because the stupid antibiotics one takes to annihilate the bad stuff in your body also annihilate everything that's good in your body). But I've actually run twice this week. The runs did NOT go well, but at least they happened. I am far, far less crazy when I actually expend some of my energy in a physically exhausting way.
Today I'm meeting my colleague in craziness, M.K., for some more festival planning and then it's back to the office for some earnest prep work. Then it's back home to meet the bus, when my son will bring home with him this adorable little girl, who loves him dearly, for their first play date.
I am looking forward to REALLY getting to work on my writing, but I feel like I need to get the rest of my house and work-life in order for that to happen, and I fear the summer will be over before my writing gets any real attention. It's only June 12, but at the same time, I'm like, "FUCK, IT'S JUNE 12!!" deep inside me, an anxiety like another spine, something that keeps me upright and moving but, well, it's another spine, it's not supposed to be there, and it's fighting for room and control with the other one, the one that's natural.
I kinda lost control of that metaphor, didn't I? Damn, I'm out of practice.
I GUESS IT'S A GOOD THING I'VE GOT THAT WRITING GROUP, HUH?