Month: February 2012

Some days just keep moving and you just keep doing whatever you need to so you can keep up.

Some days just are.

I’m sure that some days slowly unfold to show you so many amazing things, that fill up slowly in a beautiful crescendo. I believe they exist. 

I haven’t had many of those lately. 

The last week was a blur of working the day job and working on things for this amazing solo show I have the opportunity to present, and art work and a MCBA co-op meeting (the only meetings I truly enjoy going to). And then the end of the week came and it was my awesome husband’s 30th birthday and we spent days celebrating with friends and having fun and laughing over the fact that for the next 5 months he is a 30-something married to a 20-something. There was so much laughter and good times and beer and ice cream cake and crazy stories and memories we will laugh over for a long time.

Today has been a blur of hospital walls and visiting with my dad while he is there getting IV antibiotics for an infection in what he calmly calls his “pottery pulling finger”. Of watching pawn shop shows on cable tv with him in his tiny room, and thinking of how I already know many ways I could restore that book from the 1700’s that wasn’t sold (and maybe I should seriously consider taking that book repair class). There was a blur of time spent in my studio after my dad told me I needed to do other things than watch tv with him, and a blur of artwork and frame inventorying and mat cutting (with my new mat cutter – an amazing Christmas present from my mom and dad – and wow! Does that make cutting mats easier!).

And after quick trip to the hospital, I found myself standing in an empty parking lot at the restaurant, taking a photo of my footprints, waiting for my mom, and laughing as I realized that I mentally give my dad a lot of crap because whenever the restaurant is closed for the day, he still stops by to check something or pick something up. And here I am, at the restaurant, when it is closed, because he can’t be there. Funny. (Also funny because I think quite a few of us thought the restaurant would spontaneously combust if he got sick, and yet, it is still there).

Tonight has been a blur of me making lists and plans and sending emails and making Facebook invites and posts and realizing that somehow it works out. My dad will come home soon (hopefully in the morning), and we will handle it, and I will get the things done for this solo show soon (somehow before the opening). This is how things go. This is why we take things one day at a time because thinking of more than one day gets way too overwhelming sometimes. 

So, now it is late. And there is a bunny sitting in the corner of the room watching me (she always watches and sits closer to me when I am sad or crying), and I am happy that it will be time for bed and blissful oblivion soon, and grateful for the fact that amidst all of the weekend birthday celebrating, my awesome husband filled my car up with gas making many things today a bit easier. Tomorrow is a new day.