Do you ever reach that point where it seems that there simply is not enough coffee in the world to:
a.) keep you alive; b.) keep you thriving; c.) keep you productive; d.) keep you interested in remaining here on Earth when there is simply too much writing to do and not enough coffee with which to support it’s being done; and/or e.) all of the above?
I am absolutely exhausted. And I say this/type this as I contemplate the terrible dregs of my 3rd cup of coffee on this cloudy, humid Saturday morning in the Hinterlands, knowing that making another cup is not going to make life/my mental condition/my prospects for surviving this day ANY better!
I’m thinking only sleep will do that…
Oddly, though, I slept great last night. Had the AC on and the drapes closed and I slept a full 8 hours… When my bare feet hit the hardwood floor at 8 AM, I felt happy. But as soon as I once again remembered that there is simply too much to do, not enough money, no one to ever talk to… ennui times the power of 10 took over.
Loneliness. One of the drawbacks of living in obscurity in the Hinterlands. In fact, it’s the only drawback.
I really do still love living here, and even while I really don’t drink very much (anymore) (people who know me from my halcyon days will be shocked by this declaration and might hurry to click on the “About Me” page to make doubly-sure they are reading the blog of the correct Marilyn Jaye Lewis… haha) Anyway. I don’t drink much anymore but that does not keep me from missing those city days when the writing for the day was over, the sun was over the yardarm, and wine, or bourbon, or vodka martinis (and cigarettes) with friends at the local dive bar awaited! And we could all commiserate and/or celebrate the fruits of our heady days.
Yes, my friends; the Hinterlands is not full of writers… (Examine that strange sentence for its many questionable verb tenses if you dare!!)
Sandra, the actress in NYC that I write with/for, said: “Let me send you a plane ticket and you can come stay with me in Rhinebeck for a few days!” (Her sig-oh is currently in France.) But it isn’t a question of needing airfare; I can jump in my spiffy Honda Fit and head for the great wide-open, blue skies of Interstate 80 and be in Rhinebeck, NY before sundown. However, I don’t know a soul around here who can take care of my many CATS.
Sandra replied, “Girl, you really gotta start meeting people…”
I do meet people. But oddly enough, all the people who are in my age range are generally settled & married, with grown children, and even have grandchildren! I know nothing of this life. And am not likely to start knowing about it anytime soon.
I meet plenty of people around here that I enjoy, who are way younger than I am, and since I am perennially at age 12, I relate to them just fine, but it is not really reciprocal. Not just because I’m old(er), but because my frame of reference regarding life is vast, inexplicable and often strange. I might as well have spent all of my former years, up to moving to the Hinterlands, on Saturn. (Not just Saturn, but an X-rated, crime-ridden, fame-ridden Saturn, at that.)
It gets, well, discouraging is not the best word for it. Probably disheartening is better.
It gets disheartening. And yet, I have to ignore the tidal wave of disheartenment (yes, I know; not an actual word) because I have too much writing — stupefyingly precise and fantastic writing — to do this summer. (This long lonely summer.) But onward, gang.
Hope your 4th of July festivities are shaping up nicely — if you live State-side, that is. If you don’t, then I hope you just have a great weekend. Thanks for visiting, folks!!
(By the way, the next time I get to NYC and have some time to see a show that doesn’t involve Sandra, I cannot wait to see this one!! I am currently playing this song in my car, over & over & over.) I leave you to it!
Okay, see ya!!