happy/flat
Brilliant day yesterday...absolutely brilliant. Trapped as I am in this basement/suburb, I've been really lamenting my isolation. On Thursday I decided that I should do something productive about it, rather than let my feelings build up until I packed up my club clothes, abandoned everyone and drove the car to Edmonton. This lead to the ever-amusing dance: who should I tell? Will they show up? Should I stay home rather than risk failure? Fortunately, I had very little to lose; even if no one at all showed up I could still hang out with the Boy & the Blake at a downtown Second Cup.
We ended up with the hardest of the hardcore: Exodus, Dirk & Stacy. It wasn't the most exotic of afternoons - just hot chocolate, a late brunch & a trip to the Snail - but I actually felt like a human being. I still do. The Boy geeked out alarmingly and the Sprout did his thing with exceptional baby grace. (In case you're wondering, his thing consists entirely of sleeping, waking, eating, crying, googling around, & soiling a number of cloth diapers). I actually may have the energy to set up more activities this week to keep me from slipping back into postpartum depression.
In the meantime, I have new comics (thanks, Ophelia!) and a pink spiky monster sweater. I feel snuggled, even alone in this basement.
And yet, my writing seems to be flatlining. I dunno. Is it the mild depression? Is it the inevitable sameness of my days? Or is it the reverse; that my days are filled with such novel wonders that my vocabulary needs to grow several sizes to accommodate it all?
How do I write about not leaving the house or wearing sweatpants for days that turn into weeks? Or the wild joy I felt when Blake raised his body on his arms for a few trembling seconds? Or the panic I feel when he cries his heartbreaking "nuh uh huh" nagging wail? How do I write about the departures from this routine in a way that doesn't come off as shallow, a society page run-down of people, places & objects?
Meh. Still dunno.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*