Sunday, May 17, 2009

the never-ending juggle

There are some days when I know I can't pull off all that I have to. Today is one of them. Actually, I think I've felt this way for weeks but haven't been able to admit it. A bone-crushing fatigue is keeping me from thinking too much about everything and realizing how impossible it all is. I just made a master to-do list and only made it through 2 categories before I gave up. The apartment has been completely trashed and I don't care anymore. Usually I feel out of sorts when it looks like this but even so, I don't care. Somehow, the ability to relax and have fun has temporarily disappeared. Will it ever come back? I thought I was going to faint in the street today. I'm having that woozy feeling right now and am not sure if it's just exhaustion or something worse. In this frame of mind, I'm focussing on worse. I've been sleeping through the night, which is insanely rare for me. That's how completely wiped out I am.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

no, not that flow

For the past three days I've felt negative, insecure, inadequate, grumpy, put-upon, rage-filled, fed-up, incapable, frustrated, lost bordering on hopeless. At breakfast this morning I told a friend I'd forgotten what it was like to be cheerful, wondering if I'd be trapped in that greyness forever. And now I'm fine. Could be the bursts of sunshine beaming through the clouds after what seems like endless days of dreary rain. Far more likely is that I got my period. After whining for hours, suddenly the need to disappeared. It was instantaneous. My energy came rushing back. I feel powerful, enthusiastic, motivated. I feel good.

Amazing what a little hormone shift can do.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

a baseball odyssey

Jack had an 8AM game today. The forecast was rain, and looking at sleek streets, I started calling the Little League hotline at 7, to make sure they were still playing. 7:15: yes. 7:45: yes. Jack and I headed down to the car—parking downtown is easy on Sunday and I was sure I'd find a spot that's good for tomorrow (alternate side) after his game was over. It was hard not to notice the hundreds (HUNDREDS) of bike riders cycling up 6th Avenue for the multi-burrough 50 mile bike ride, but I had gone to sleep at 2 and my brain wasn't processing everything yet.

As we headed down 5th Ave, 9th Street was closed. I started to panic, realizing there was NO way in hell we'd be able to get across 6th Avenue. And there was no way to get back to our parking spot. We had to circumvent Washington Square Park, trying Houston next to make it to the West Side Highway. No go. The police officer killed all hope, there was no way to get to the west side. We looped around, ditched the car at 8th and University, grabbed our gear, and started hiking west, through the drizzle.

On 8th Street we saw a man wearing a Greenwich Village Little League coach shirt. While the games were still happening, he was giving up and heading home. He couldn't get to Pier 40. As we were talking options, a cab slowed down—the dad of Jack's friend stuck his head out. They were trying to get to the game too. Jack and I piled in the cab and made it as far as the entrance to the Holland Tunnel, west of 6th. Then, ignoring the blaring whistle of a police officer, the four of us darted across the avenue, avoiding hordes of oncoming bikers. It was remarkably like a game of Frogger.

We picked up another cab a few blocks north and made it to the game. Somehow, we were only 15 minutes late. As Jack ran across the field, the inning switched and he was next up at bat. He was on first base by the time I got there. He had 2 more base hits—his best game ever.

Friday, May 1, 2009


Someone in my elevator just said, "Hey, you're Elissa, aren't you?" I said yes and she mentioned she recognized me from my author photo, that she was X's partner and that all my pictures were great.

Lovely compliment! But I have no idea who X is.