For more than a week, I have assumed that tonight I would make a big fuss over this, the seventh anniversary of my blog. It was the morning of Saturday, April 20, 2013, when I was still smarting over an insult (that doesn’t matter anymore) from the night before, when I pulled out my iPad and started a rant that is still going to this day, but in much less emotionally damaged terms. I’m proud of what I’ve done. I’m exhausted by it. I’m self conscious and I wish I had a way to stop it and I expect to keep it up for years. I have a lot of feelings about it. But most of all, I rely on it. Routines matter when my body and my life is so unpredictable and unreliable.
But it’s not the primary focus of my mind tonight. All day, I have been trying to compose something entirely different, yet still right up this alley. I was contacted today and asked to deliver tomorrow’s “moment of inspiration” at the Rotary zoom meeting. I’m flattered and terrified at the same time. I’ve avoided doing this for four years, because I didn’t think I was particularly inspirational. But maybe in this time of forced isolation, I actually am. This is my wheelhouse and I know what to do here. Perhaps I can jot down a few extra paragraphs to offer guidance to the extroverts who are chafing at the lack of human interaction.
The only problem is I have been kicking around ideas in my head for it all day yet never writing anything down. It’s now midnight, and I had to take a prescription pain pill for the inflammation in my hip that is getting significantly worse as I spend too much time sitting on my bed watching tv. I’m sleepy and a little goofy and I still haven’t conquered my shyness over this assignment. It’s going to be a long night, and I’m going to have purple shadows under my eyes when I read my speech into my webcam during tomorrow’s meeting. Is showing the true face of habitual isolation inspiring?
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