Chin Up

Dec 12, 2016
3 min read

I haven’t felt inspired to write lately. With the doomsday election over and my feeling of being unappreciated (at work, by some friends - probably just an oversight, and in filmmaking), I’ve segued into full-on hermit mode. I go to work, sometimes working a few extra hours, force myself to the gym and then relax in front of the TV, sewing. To be fair, I’m trying to finish a project for Christmas, and the deadline is coming up sooner than I’d like. Plus, I’m really trying to get back into a schedule regarding the gym and eating healthy, and so far so good. I’m trying to relax as much as I can and see people on the weekends when I have enough energy.

I could write about seeing my friend in his first stage play. Although I wasn’t a huge fan of the actual play, he did a fantastic job and I was so very proud of him. It also inspired me to delve into casting websites and look for plays and musicals to submit to. I really miss being on stage. But plays are a huge time commitment, so I want to be sure I submit for roles I’m really excited about. And I’m toying with trying to get a musical off the ground myself (for the second time). Meanwhile, I had to drop out of a short film due to constant rescheduling, and I have a few film/TV auditions in the pipeline. Things are moving, albeit slowly. And patience is not a virtue of mine.

I could write about female issues that have been on my mind lately (Dad, I suggest skipping this paragraph). The day after the election, I got an article in my news feed about women rushing to get IUDs because of the probable downfall of the ease of birth control under a Trump administration. I looked into it and saw that the copper-style IUD, ParaGard, is pretty much all I’ve ever wanted. I can’t believe doctors don’t bring them up more. It uses copper instead of hormones, which I am ecstatic about because I’ve always had issues with hormonal acne. It lasts for 10-12 years, so if we’re doomed to suffer through eight years of the Trump-monster, I’m covered. Plus, despite me doing my damnedest to lose weight with the same routine that lost me 15-20 pounds before (off birth control), I’ve plateaued at the higher end of my scale, causing massive stress and frustration. One of my gym instructors was telling me that different hormonal birth controls can react adversely to diet, which makes a TON of sense given the last time I was off birth control compared to being on it now. So, hopefully, this epiphany of sorts will prove me right and I’ll have solved three issues in one fell swoop! Verdict is still out, though.

I could write about how time flies. It’s already been 10 months since I lost Colonel Sanders, and I’m still not over it. I know grieving is a process and one is never fully “over it”. But it wasn’t even a month ago that I almost broke down in Zumba class because I saw my paw-prints tattoo and thought of him. It will be in a little over a month that he’ll have been gone from my life for a year. I can’t fully comprehend that. It will be in less than a month that my friend Kari has been lost to me for three years. The speed at which the days blend together terrifies me. Thankfully, I have Sarge to cuddle and comfort me.

I could write about how I miss being in love, or at least excited about someone. But I’ve made up my mind to put that in the backseat to career and health (physical and mental). Because while I would really like to have someone there for me, I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I’ve grown a tremendous amount in the past year or so, I’m finding myself more independent, and I’m tired of the games and swiping and never hearing back. I’m worth more than that, and I hate wasting my time. So, I’m keeping my chin up and focusing on my goals and priorities. The rest will come later, I can’t doubt that. I look to Tori Kelly’s “Dear No One” for inspiration in that regard.

I could write about all those things, but I don’t have much to say. I just keep on keeping on, and focus on bettering myself. I wish this entry was a little more cheerful and optimistic, but I’ll get there.