I'm in Florida! John's Island! Dafuq? I said I'd never go here, since it was so very country-clubby and not my scene at all. Well, I decided to come down a month ago to say hi to Mom and show some support, I guess. And...well, while here alone with Mom, I really enjoyed it. Like...really, really enjoyed it. Particularly the beach scene. And I indulged in listening to a lot of exotica. So both together, combined with an honestly great time with Mom made for a great trip.
Well, I told Dennis about it every night, and he got so thrilled about it, he decided we should visit together. So...here we've been over the past week. Crazy. It's been very chill here. Perhaps a bit too chill for me. Dennis has been doing a lot of resting, which...doesn't he already do a lot of resting? Staying mainly in the bedroom, but has gone out to the pool a fair number of times too, indulging his need for no weight on his back and legs, which, good for him. He truly needs that as much as he can get. Me, I've gone to the beach three times for three identical days: yellow flag connoting a moderate surf, brilliant sun, very hot morning, very few waves, pleasant water temperature, same location...it got to be quite repetitious. So, I guess, I got a bit antsy toward the end. As did Dennis. We're heading back to Denver tomorrow after a very pleasant week.
I've been thinking about how my brain seems to keep slowing down more and more, with me losing conversation threads and forgetting what I was talking about more and more regularly. I lose words in the middle of sentences. And with that, I think I also lose inspiration to write, to produce. I alluded to the fact that I think Vimpat—and every seizure med I've been on before that—has contributed to this. As has just plain aging. But I realized that I still have a lot I want and need to say. My life hasn't ended. Far from it. So why am I not producing stuff? I should be very productive still! Even if the noggin is mucked in molasses and struggling to say the right thing. Even if the right word doesn't come out and I have to settle for perhaps a second-best word. Welcome to the world of my peers who have always struggled with language. I can still do it.
What's even more to the point? I should be producing things even if they are brutally negative. Again, just to put it out there. Maybe make sense of it. For example: my thought for a long time that I have poor taste in friends. Of course, my friends would hate to see that, as it would be easy to take that as a slight against them. But that's worth exploring.
Incidentally, I sometimes think it'd be good to have another blog. One that is public, as opposed to a private one. I can create whatever I want here. If a post seems to be appropriate, I can put it on my public blog and hawk it for all it's worth. As I should, since I'm a...what? Editor. Narrator. Basically, a wordsmith who interacts very regularly and energetically and joyously with language. Whatever I can, I should put out there.
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In other news, right now, the National Spelling Bee is going on. And I'm blissfully not participating. I saw some pictures of it today, and particularly enjoyed seeing Frank Cahill and Corrie Loeffler sitting next to each other during what I suspect was a word panel meeting, though more likely was a regular staff meeting. Nice to see Kavya Shivashankar on Frank's other side, too. I still get pangs of wistfulness or pain from seeing a scene I was never truly part of, but I'm living with them and dealing with it. Choosing to be away from it all allows for some good, necessary healing.
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