It's All Much Simpler This Year

Amidst the holidaze, planning proceeds for the 4th anniversary of my perforation.  BEYOND! actually encompasses more than my little piece of heaven, but this year I am having a hard time looking beyond my own nose. 

The permit issuers were beginning to worry.  I hadn't responded to their emails.  I had been avoiding my GRIN inbox, then the computer died and the shortcut with it and if I could remember the web address I could plug in the user names and passwords which are, frustratingly, more readily available than the places I need to enter them.  But that's not the reason.  I knew what they wanted to tell me.  I just didn't want to face it.

I wanted to revel in FlapJilly and then in the Brownie List and I didn't want to plan or think or go back to the worst moment in my life.

In the past, when people would tell me to take care of myself, to do what I needed to do, to think of me first, I would confidently reassure them that I was doing exactly that.  By participating in public events, by sharing my story, by creating and doing good deeds, I was taking care of myself.

This year is different.  I don't know why, but it is.  I am much sadder.  I am trying not to be as angry as it seems all too easy to be... all too justified.... all so unproductive.

There's a lot of energy involved in redirecting all that emotion, and that doesn't leave much extra, even for the things that matter.  One month out from the event, though, I recognized that ignoring a problem may not make it go away.  I baked two disposable tins of brownies, created To/From greetings for each, and made my way to Parks and Rec and the Department of Transportation. 

One old friend was retired, another transferred, but their compatriots were the ones who'd been contacting me and being ignored, so the sweets fell into the correct hands. The paperwork was completed, hugs and handshakes were exchanged, and now I can move on.

One task down, how many more to go?  The answer, I realized on the drive home, was fungible.  There were as many tasks as I decided there had to be.

I don't want new fundraising flyers; I'll take a Sharpie and update the ones from last year.  It's a not-for-profit, after all.  Donors should be impressed with my frugality. I'll ask Elizibeth and her friends to take a mallet and the new signs and plant them using their young legs and new drivers licenses.  I'll eliminate the snacks and water, will use last year's t-shirts instead of reordering new ones, and I will stop and take a deep breath every once in a while.

It's all much simpler this year.