Drum Story

Written May 3, 2011I sat behind a drum kit for the very first time when I was in my early thirties. I could figure out a more approximate date but haven’t the will. It seemed late be trying to learn an instrument. At first it was awkward hearing the stick against the skin and steel. This stage didn’t last long. Maybe ten minutes. Then it just felt good to let the body swing into the beat. There is no thinking going on. Thinking becomes a forgettable interruption when the body is in rhythm.I remember having dreams filled with things that left me feeling lonely this morning when I woke up. Love or companionship or a connection with a physical slant feel to me at this moment like a thing of my past. And still, I have no desire to share my home space or life hours with anyone other than my dogs. Even those two cause me to feel impatient every once in awhile. My life was so full and abundant and interesting and real. Now, with the help of many flavors of pills and plants and Gatorade, I am coping with fatigue and bad eyes and no sense of taste and no sense of smell and occasionally itchy skin. I take a lot of deep breaths and wonder about the way of the world. Have I failed yet? Have I succeeded at all? Here it is, another day.Last night I dreamt I was a solo act.This is the truth. Sometimes, the sounds around the house are disturbing to me. The sound of dishes being cleaned, rugs being vacuumed, and dogs being praised in high fluted voices. The sounds sort of wear me out.Chores:Garden Fever- stuff to start seedsUS BANK- safety deposit boxBanana GramPurgeReadWriteArithmaticStart a fireMove all drums downstairsMove bed to southwest corner of the bedroomFind guitar standsTarget/IKEA/Pottery Barn/Canoe- carpets, lamps, outdoor lights, holder things for silverware, indoor lighting, file cabinetSink Store- Aboy?Appointment with Anthony and JayFive cards per day, you can do it. Fear not.Cook potatoesBatheFloss/brush/bleachYogaEditsWordPressFitnessTherapy/GroupTaxesHot TubClean GarageStart GhiaSleepWeepLaugh out loudEatHydrateContemplateOrganizeDesignBelieveAcceptPersonal HygieneMassageBook ClubCranial SacralBusiness Associates: make a listJudy/LarryCards/GiftsHome Improvements/Driveway/sidewalkNicole/Mary/TiffanyToday I am lonesome and depressed. My stomach hurts. I have no energy. It is hard to walk without falling over. I want to be positive but today it feel s like being Positive is a big fat laugh. What am I going to do? What is the purpose of my life? Why am I always waking up sick? Does Shari ever feel this same way? We project a world of positivity on everyone around us, is that real? Aside from the critically tormented are those folks who are simply living the day to day having genuine feelings of impatience, aggravation, and despair for no apparent reason?My hands look like they are covered with the skin of an old woman with long fingers. I try not to look. I am not as beautiful as I was once. Is this as good as it gets? And, why do I care? At this moment in the morning I am listening to the Buena Vista Social Club cd through my IPod on a pair of earplugs that lost one of the sides last week. Still, it is a relief to hear the music in my ear. My stereo broke during the last happy hour I had, ouch. I have to acknowledge how very much I miss the music. It is coming. And so is my eyesight. Is my health coming back? Will I be able to walk up a flight of stairs without feeling it in my legs and being slightly short of breath?Having just read the last 3 pages I am struck by all the grammatical errors that books just never, ever have. Grammar is important. I just wish it didn't slow me down.Hungry, tired, blind, lonesome, lazy, disappointed.Breath deep. Accept.