Still recuperating from the blitzkreig that was my January and February, I find that, once I stopped moving at the speed of light, it's very difficult to resume any kind of motion at all.
I can do what I have to do - take care of the kids, teach my classes, go to my gigs, pay the bills that keep things turned on. Anything else seems beyond me at this point. Friday being my day off from school, I said to myself. "Once I get the kids off to school, I can get some stuff done! I can work on my blog, update my band's website, put the old food in the refrigerator up for adoption, organize my bedroom, do laundry, finally go to Weight Watchers like I promised my doctor" - on and on I went. Then, I laid back down in my bed and went to sleep. It seems all I can do right now without being forced is read, sleep and eat.
I spent a few days last week at the mall while I waited for the newly-consolidated AT&T/SBC/Yahoo/Pacbell merger-monopoly to be good and ready to give me back my DSL. The mall has wireless access for $3 a day, as opposed to $tarbucks' $10. It's only when I go to the mall that I'm confronted with the reality of my weight - when I walk past all the shops with their cute clothes and realize that I can fit into none of them - that they are completely off-limits to me. Most of the time I'm too busy to actively worry about my weight. But at the mall I feel cut off from the mainstream. Not that there isn't anything that will fit - there's a perfectly lovely Lane Bryant at the far end of the mall. But, no matter what I put on, I will still look exactly like what I am - an overweight, middle-aged matron. I am not inclined to spend any kind of money on that, and Lane Bryant is not cheap.
I have never learned to dress cute big. I see all kinds of really attractive big girls who have it all together - the hair, the makeup, the clothes. Not me. Before I had kids, I loved clothes. Not expensive clothes, but fun clothes - I could indulge myself in the stuff I wore on stage, and dress as eclectically as I liked. Between thrift shops, vintage shops, and sales, I had a pretty nice wardrobe. But that sort of thing looks ridiculous on me at my weight now. My present goal is merely coverage. I am the most comfortable in a long black burqa-like shift dress that I made to wear in Bali when we played at the Hard Rock Hotel there and they asked us to wear all black. I feel as if my presence onstage is a liability to my band - even though I sing and play fine, part of the job description is appearance, and that's just a fact. The up side of it is that I am judged on what I do, and if I'm complimented on that, it's real. I don't have to wonder if it's bulls*** because they like my looks. In fact, that is one of the overall pluses to being out of the loop appearance-wise. It makes you invisible to the bulls***ers, and since I'm very happily married and not flirtatious by nature, I'm not looking for that kind of attention.
Still, the health issue is starting to bug me. I'm very strong from having carried heavy keyboards and amplifiers since I was 15, but now I'm at the age where things are starting to hurt, and since it is seldom that I am availed of a roadie, lugging my gear around is getting harder. My doctors are wanting me to get rid of the weight, and I know I'd feel so much better if I did (not to mention how much fun it would be to wear the clothes that i've still kept in the hopes of one day fitting into them again). But right now, my lassitude and lethargy are keeping me from doing anything so strenuous as attending to my health. I'll be going back to Florida to hang out with my dad in a couple of days - being worried about him isn't helping my overall state of mind either. Maybe a change of scenery can jog something loose and get me moving again. I'm at least writing something today, which is an improvement over the last few weeks. I will attempt to get back into commentary soon if I can get any two brain cells to rub together again.
But for now, I think I'll take another nap, just because I can.