SLIPPING AND SLIDING

It is a little hard to develop this subject because it is absolutely and perhaps abjectly personal.   I am wondering about myself, my braiin, my energy, what is wrong with me, what is right with me, and all that stuff.

I have reached a relatively happy status right now.  The income tax return that I was fussing about  a few weeks ago resulted in a refund (state and national) that, along with an annuity payment has made me feel more financially stable than I have for awhile. I don’t know if my health is improving in reality, but I find that I can walk upright like a homo-sapiens for a lot longer each day, than has sometimes been usual in the recent past.  Janet’s health is improving enough that she stated yesterday that if it weren’t for the incessant pain in the leg that was shattered a couple of years ago, she would think she was completely healthy

On the other hand, my attention span has become so short that I irritate my self, and probably everyone around me.  I seem not to be able to finish anything.  The house is getting deeper and deeper in projects that I have started without finishing.   I have two lengthy posts for this blog that I started, wrote energetically for about half an hour (One about a production of Godspell that was a particularly wonderful experience in my life and another that I titled The partial resurrection of the dead red van ).  Both of these are a bit historical and experiential but subjects that I think my children and family with find illuminating and a bit humorous.   I got a good start on each of these and just couldn’t keep on to the conclusion, in spite of the fact that I have probably spent more clock time at the computer this week than is common. I don’t have an explanation except that on each of these I just hit a block that I couldn’t, or can’t seem to pass.   I got most of the work done to organize my studio, and I find myself going out there to sit an look at sculpts,, gizmos, and the wall without the energy to make any use of them.  Jan walked into our bedroom an asked me if i had finsihed my laundry (we share that little task) and I had to admit that I didn’t know.  I remember packing it into the laundry room but had to go and look to see if I had put it in the washing machine (about half of it, but not finished.)

I find this whole thing fascinating.  I wonder, analytically, if this is the way Alzheimer's, or other forms of dementia start.    I find it kind of funny to be thinking about it when what I am thinking about is why I can’t seem to think.  Whatever the result, I find myself slipping and sliding like a car with slick tires on ice (or wet red clay).

I will try to finish the posts I mentioned, and keep track of whether this slipping and sliding ends up with my brain crashed on the side of the wall, or if I am just cutting donuts (those who drive on icy roads know what that is) that I will finally come out of them.  (I just discovered that Live Writer –which I love- had posted half of this post among the 2008 posts in the blog.  Well, that’s par for the course.