Today I reached the tipping point.
Much like that warthog up there, wallowing in his own refuse.
Whether it's because I'm a woman, a mother, an artist, or just a partially crazy person, every now and then I find myself suffering what I call:
The Perfect Storm.
But there's no George Clooney.
He was in that right? I didn't see it. But he skeeves me out.
The Perfect Storm is what happens when temporary setbacks combine with chemical/hormonal issues and sleep deprivation to make me feel like a crazy person. It's almost like a minor crisis of self, where I feel horrid and yucky and like I can't catch up. Like I'm drowning. Wallowing.
But not all the way. No, the part of me that still takes showers and snuggles children and keeps the toilet paper stocked knows that it's freaking stupid. That it will pass. That there's no way out but through. And that part keeps me from actually going crazy.
I had one today-- a Perfect Storm. I didn't want to write. I couldn't write. I felt out of control. Kind of like Cher in Clueless, I just sat where I was, dazed, until I knew the answer.
I needed to go bowling.
So I went to the bowling alley and bowled two sets by myself-- something I've never done before-- and then I went to a new restaurant downtown and ate sushi and drank green tea while reading a scandalous romance about a scandalous whatever on my Nook.
And afterward, I felt much better.
1. When you're stuck in a loop in your head,
doing something entirely unfamiliar can help get you out of it.
2. Bowling and sushi can cure anything.
Since then, I had a great day, came up with a new story idea I'm really excited about, and solved most of the problems that seemed insurmountable at 10am.
$21 well spent.