Wednesday, June 20, 2018

But why?

An early adopter of most things, I am also early to abandon. By the time people get interested in what I'm doing, I've run out of steam, energy, money, passion for the project. I generally sit on my hands for five years and then people start getting interested and catch up.

It's not ideal.

This blog for example. I started one back in 2009 and had a good following and then I renamed it and did some half assery on this one and see? It's been 10 months since a post three years in. I don't know everything about the interwebs, but I do know that you can't write a post once a year and have a marketable thingie.

But I don't want to write because I can sell some shit. I'm tired of the thinly veiled things that are just marketing tongue wagging. I'm part of it, even! I pimp my products on Instagram. But why? Everyone just scrolls and likes and moves on and I end up schlepping the products to brick and mortar stores anyway. So much for tech.

And writing. Meh. I used to love it but now I feel very little need to tell my story. Craft the phrase, draw you in, compete with the ten zillion other things out there trying to draw you in as well. The brink of nuclear war to funny cat videos. I'm not into elbowing my way into something that is looking more like a sample sale at Feline's Basement every day.

I'm tired of reading a thing only to find that they are trying to sell me a thingie, retreat, book, widget, class. Sometimes I just want to read the thing. It's like a friend calling to see how you are but they really just want a favor. It's all so transparent.

 Today was supposed to be a boots on the ground day for me and I made my sprays, bottled the sprays, created the labels for the sprays, had a brief but terse argument with the printer, applied the labels, tied the hemp ribbon on the hand written cards and then froze. Yesterday's shipment went out in the mail before noon. I could roll out more today, But Why?

I did not take them to the new hardware store or the health food store I went to last week. I did not bag them up, they sit lined up like cobalt soldiers on my kitchen island. I sat on the floor instead. There were some tears. And then I ate a soft boiled egg. The yolk was perfect. There's a dust bunny under the stove.

I've been in this small town for 13 years. 10 really because I didn't move in right away I was still running my restaurants in Decatur. But for sure, 10. But the first two I had a complete nervous break down which I noodled through by renovating a 4000 sq ft block home and wandering around the 7 acres. Then my sweet border collie had to be put to sleep and my dad died and I spent much time consoling myself and then my mom. So okay 2010 I was definitely doing stuff then.

Was I?

I raised chickens and built barns and learned how to navigate with the 85% Guatemalan population here as my only reliable skilled labor. I learned that I do not want to butcher birds, heritage or otherwise and now I don't even eat chicken. So I did that.

I had a huge crush on a guy for a year and he lived here and I got pulled under the waves and we lived in that weird place under the sea where you only care about staring at each other and having sex. But that's long over.

Things started getting weird in 2012 if I had to track my Resume of Unraveling My Life. Health issues, loss of energy, undiagnosable "inflammation" and other chronic buzz words. An aging parent, needing to be in two places at once. The inevitable death of said parent and then another couple of years closing out the family Trust with no help and only cranktastic sibling commentary. Fuck everyone.

So okay I've been back here since 2017. And since then I've moved tenants in and out. Catered to many Airbnb guests, moved upstairs, downstairs and continued the decade long renovation to the house. Now, out of resources and since I've tied my own hands so I cannot do anymore work or spend money on this house I've already over spent on----I am frozen. I have listed the house for sale because I really don't know what to do if I don't have a project. A makeover. A roof to tear off. A paint color to choose.

But why?

I guess I'll downsize. Look for a job. Move. Or something. I am not interested in any of those things. I am out of energy. Now would be a good time to write that screenplay.

But why?

Or start a new restaurant?

But why?

Travel? Garden? Take a painting class? Yoga?


I don't have to clean up after myself which is nice because I'm not using any of the rooms. There are a lot of smoothies. The trash can has one bag in it to roll to the curb for pick up. It's like I'm not here. And sort of? I'm not.

I haven't watched Netflix in weeks. Months? Too disinterested. Don't like the light. Find it all boring. Can't commit to a series. Never miss a comedy special. But I've seen them all.

I think part of finding your path, your truth, your interior is about shedding all the stuff. ALL of it. There is no immediate replacement when you drop all your old bullshit habits. I find that sometimes I just stop and stare a bunch. I've never had to eat my way out of my own cocoon before so I don't kow if I'm doing it write or if I even have any wings. But I'm different that's for sure.

The smoking/drinking good time Charlie habits dropped about 3 years ago. That's cool, but it took a minute to figure out what I'd do at sundown every night after I closed down Cocktail Hour and Wine Time. But it passed and now I just read and do stuff or piddle around the house until I'm tired and go to bed. (yea, I failed to mention that I still and after much effort, know no one in this town. I think heads would explode if I had a dinner party and my only option left is Church. And I'm not doing that.)

And socializing after you revamp your diet, don't eat late, eat garbage or drink or like mostly any of the things---it would be easier to socialize around here if I liked fast food, or wings and the Game. Gross.

Of course boozing is not only embraced in this culture, it's shoved down your throat. I went to a new yoga studio the other day and was turned off by the new "hip" young 30 something owner gals and their embrace of the lame branding of YOGA- COFFEE-WINE and repeat meme, tshirt, instagram push and more. They'll figure it out, but not from this 51 year old been there done that it's a long road to regain your health and life Lady. But I'm not gonna take classes there either. Mostly because I can do yoga in my living room and secondly because I'd for sure blurt out how UNHEALTHY it is to promote alcohol and caffeine in a yoga class.

But why?

I'm tired of my elevator pitch (what do you do? Uhhhhh) because at this stage and 30 years in to working and entrepreneurship I feel like just handing someone my CV or saying Google me, I'm reinventing. And who cares? I'm tired of hipsters, craft cocktails, social media, politics (!!) and the terrifying shit we are allowing to happen to our country. I'm tired of occasionally reading a news site and seeing either a shooting or that one of our successful beloved icons has hung themselves.

I'm tired of working with amigos in town and thinking we're buddies and then having him show up at my door every night for a week looking for sex like an un-cut stray and suggesting that I should 'do it' because it's been 'too long'. I'm tired of people asking me why I don't have kids and I want to start giving them a guilt trip and saying, oh I longed for the pitter patter of little feet...but the good lord didn't bless me with any insides in my baby oven. Just walnuts for ovaries.

Instead of my song and verse about an entire lifetime of birth control methods and a disdain for children and breeders from a young age. Like 10. I've been sure of a few things in life. The most solid was that I would be child free. How long do I have to talk about that? Can I just start giving people the finger? Yes. Yes, I can.

So see? This is why I don't blog anymore.