Cranky Pants

3.2.15

So much drama!  People threatening to quit the band if we go onstage.  Demanding I have an opinion, and it better be the same as theirs.  Well, what to do?  I love the stage.  I wouldn’t mind either way.  It’s not an emotional issue, and besides, isn’t it up to the venue?  Aren’t we putting on a show?  Maybe not.  

It was threatening to rain all weekend, but why threaten?  I am ready and waiting.  Maybe some fruit trees will get their blossoms knocked off.  It’s not up to me.  My big thrill today, one white onion, 22 cents.  

I banged my head in the bathroom at rehearsal.  Banged my knee on a tool box I had forgotten to put away.  No one can take a joke, least of all me.  I am so caught up in other peoples opinions and activities I don’t know where my extremities are.  I think it is another chapter of grief, just to be absent and let people lead me around on a leash, but it does get dreary.  

Yes, maybe I don’t hear what you say, maybe that’s okay, maybe I have a right to tune out, rest, ponder, exhibit indifference, wait for rain not to fall.  If you have a great idea, write it down.  Sketch it out.  Make a list.  We can check it, or chuck it later. That’s what I’d do.  I’m sure I have a blank piece of paper in the recycling, or a watercolor block, or some nice Bristol board.  Don’t get invested. I’m an artist, yo.