Taking no prisoners. Including herself.

27 minutes past my self-imposed bedtime (welcome to the life of a hypomanic-proclivitist*[1]) and I am keying-out some creative word-show. No, I’m not up at 9:30pm finishing a work project (that was last week). Rather, I am trying to “create” something — anything. I am trying to fulfill my commitment to do one creative thing a day, no matter how small,  for another “creative blog” started between friends. Our Daily One.

*     *     *

I wrote about this briefly before, but I return to it again tonight. This is because at 8:38pm, as I have just slid into an oo-oo-extreme but actually ah-oh-just-perfect -ly hot bath, I suddenly remember I haven’t posted a creative daily. Shiiiiiiiit.

I sink under water.

*     *     *

Shit. Not only did I forget to do a Daily One, I forgot to email back M. and E. and call K. and C.  and text R. and confirm the time for Saturday and check out that book from the library and pay the AmEx bill and follow up with P. and T. and Ms. about my show and GODDAMIT I really wanted to read I.G.’s translation and respond, and–

You get the picture. I’m sure this is no different than what goes on inside your own head… or a head near you.

I can let most of those To Dos slide. Somehow the creativity-slip isn’t ok.

You may be asking yourself why. You may be thinking that the world will not implode if I fail to post on a casual blog shared between 6 friends. I am asking and thinking the same.

*     *     *

But I brainstorm — while the drain gurgles a little song — about what constitutes “a creative thing:”

Today I wrote a work email…with bullet points and colors… what about that? I formatted an effing beautiful spreadsheet.  I prepared breakfast?  Sit-ups? Maneuvered traffic? I deftly set up a conference call… does that count?

[gurgle, gurgle, gurg-]

And on I go, skimming through my day for something that will qualify, all the while missing the point. Isn’t the idea to bring in some small additional bit of creativity outside the normal daily routine? Wasn’t the idea to enjoy doing it?

What am I going to do? I’ve done nothing creative today.

[insert intermittent panic and pouting here]

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

*     *     *

And then it hits me. Actually, it rolls its eyes, gives a big sigh and then hits me (now frustrated that it has hit me before, and I failed to learn the first time): You’re creating a life, dummy!*[2] You are creating intra-personal, self-directed, neo-relational reality, retold every day — aren’t you striving to create a self-described, description-less self, one that sketches from the messy mark-ups of surrendered spontaneity? Aren’t you scribbling around with conscious re-orientations of consciousness?

Well, yeah…
sure, I’m renovating the house from the inside out, and although not externally apparent, it’s true there is major construction going on.

Well, yeah…
sure, but what do I post?

*     *     *

At this point the water has turned lukewarm, and my jujube & licorice tea has prematurely temperaturely*[3]  matched.

Dripping, and not bothering with a pad-dry, I gallomph over to the computer and began typing.  I am now in a baby tizzy over not having created anything, and am in a fully-matured adult tizzy by the time 10:13pm rolls around and I still haven’t.

I Spent an Hour Writing and All I Got Was This Stupid Blog Post.

Then, dejected and secretly satisfied, I go to bed*[4].


*[1] one who has a proclivity toward low-grade mania, or creative-guilt-inspired sleeplessness. Yes, I made it up.
*[2] No, I’m not pregnant.
*[3] Yes, I made that one up, too. So I have double adverbs*[a], so what?
*[4] Sure. You want to call this irony, go for it. You want to consider this wrapped with a pink ribbon? Your call.  I’m just effing relieved I have something to post.


*[a] And now I have a footnote to a footnote: Remember that sometimes an adverb can modify another adverb [:40]

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