I should probably launch into a tome-like explanation over my lengthy absence to the blog. (Boring) But I decline. Instead I'll give you the high-speed chase highlights so we can move on and get to better tidbits going forward. So here we go:
Family member got dramatically ill. Then I got shingles. Not the red band around your middle that makes you scream like you're on fire. No. More like the nerve in your head kind that makes your face paralyzed, knocks out some of your hearing and gives you vertigo that puts high heels and a glass of wine simultaneously out of the question. This was fantastic. And yes, while I'm aware that sounds sarcastic, it is not.
Let me pull an aside here and note that I think epiphanies are like unicorns. They are magical glorious things we hear that people have glimpsed that change their lives -- and they are fairy hogwash.
I did not have an epiphany. I had something more akin to a sledge hammer knocking my canines loose from my mouth. I had a wake up call from the powers that be that said, "Slow the F--- Down. I'm paralyzing your face. Get it?"
I spent the last 8 1/2 years being a mom, a writer, a journalist, a wife, friend and nutter. Yes in that order. And here's what I realized. Put your iPhone down, stop texting and pay attention 'cause this is golden:
You Can't Have It All.
I know. Wisdom of the Gods. (They don't pay me the big bucks for nothing.)
Since The Rabbit was born I stepped right into that movie with Diane Keaton where she's a high speed executive who ends up with a baby literally on her doorstep and tries to out power walk other single ladies and then moves to Vermont and launches a multi-million dollar baby food conglomerate within a 8-minute montage and then falls in love with Sam Shepard and realizes she's happy. That's been me minus the food conglomerate and Sam Shepard. (The Prince is way hotter. Trust me.) But the crazy I have to move 1,000 miles an hour part? Me. And then my face got paralyzed and I spent 3 weeks in bed looking at my frozen face and thinking, "Hey, so, was that worth it?"
So here's the point: It wasn't. And what is worth it is taking my time to enjoy what I'm doing WHEN I'M DOING THAT ONE THING. When I'm reading to The Rabbit at night. When I'm writing a story I care about and want to make work. When I'm having a glass of wine (yes, with flats) with The Prince. When I'm having dinner with a friend. When I find a story worth reporting.
And so here I am. Writing here. Taking the time. Knowing something else won't get done. But being or trying to be cool with it. And ultimately knowing that my shelving something for tomorrow will not result in the Karma Klan pulling the trap door under my a-- and send me down the shoot.
Well, maybe eventually they will. But tonight, I think my a-- (and yes, my recently returned face) is safe.