Jumbled update

[sun_set_bravely]

I'm awake from my second twelve-hour night of sleep in a row, and I still don't feel rested. I'm pretty sure that the milk has gone sour, but I mixed in some Carnation Instant Breakfast anyway and poured it over my Cheerios.


The script is in the last sprint. We are so close to the final mark, and I'm having a hard time concentrating enough to get the polishes made. I try to remember that this happens every time we revise madly and then take a break. I will get back in the groove and we will finish this. And then... I can't say anything yet, but I will update everyone here when we get solid news.
      Already there are new ideas for books and scripts brewing in my head. I'm trying to handle them all with the time I have; I feel like a schoolteacher trying to be fair to all the young, beautiful hands thrust high in my classroom, begging for acknowledgement.

I had a luminous dinner with my friend LT on Thursday night. We ate fresh made-at-our-table guacamole and talked about our lives. We laughed, we mourned, we got excited about our own journeys. We made lists of our dream casts for the script. We walked back to her house and watched "Frida," which I'd never seen before, and we drooled over the vivacious color and energy of the movie.
      The next morning I stopped in a bookstore on the way to the subway and bought Spanish language lesson CDs. It's been long enough that I've vowed to learn the language. Taking French in high school in Texas was nice, but not so practical.

My roommate's dog has fleas, and she's cleaned the entire apartment, hopefully getting rid of them.

Yesterday, for the first time in a month and a half, I cooked a meal for myself other than thrown-together nachos. I satisfied the mounting urge to chop an onion. I made chicken noodle soup, and only managed to burned it a little. I have felt less myself because I wasn't cooking for myself, and nurturing myself in that way. But my appetite for movement has been dimmed for all that time, and I've followed my inertia.

There are lots of sadnesses running through my friends' lives right now, and through mine, too, though I'd like to think I've moved on. I hope that everyone is doing at least okay, if not well, out there in my LJ friends list.

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/lindalee_/]

sometimes, i think only writers can understand the simplistic beauty, need, desire-- of chopping an onion.

i, too, occasionally crave it-- the sound, the method, the process, the inadvertent tears.