I feel like I hit a brick wall today.
And then tried to plow through it.
And then build it back up.
This is me tonight. Frankly, this is me and what I look like most nights. Splotchy, baggy-eyed, and, apparently, sporting gills on my chin. (What the heck, age? God getting old is just weird.)
Tonight I performed at The Paper Machete, a weekly literary event hosted/created by our friend, Christopher Piatt. I don’t know when it started happening, but at some point during the past few years I started being asked to write original essays and read them at literary/comedy events here in Chicago. Some have gone over better than others, but I guess I’m doing well enough at them that people keep asking me to get up on their stages and tell a story.
I am petrified of getting on stage in front of people. I have developed over the years a bona fide fear of it. And yet? My ego is bigger than my fear, and I am a people-pleaser. I can’t say no, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Dig deeper still, and doing these sort of things keep alive a part of me I put on the back burner a long time ago – the me that is a writer.
Of course it’s funny, getting up in a crowd like tonight’s. The differences between the old me and the new me are so startling. The new me – the woman approaching middle age, with a corporate job, a baby, an early bedtime – bears no resemblance to the crowds that gather at these things. Nothing about me is ironic, or cool, or hip. And it’s not because I’m a mom. It’s just because I’m not cool anymore. I legitimately don’t know about certain things anymore, and I no longer have the physical or emotional bandwidth to find out. Jesus, I use words like “bandwidth.”
These realizations are tough. When your time has come and gone, and you need to make way for others to take their rightful place at the table, you only hope you handle it with grace and humility. I think I have – I don’t have any weird issues about not going to the newest bars, and I’m not anxious over not knowing about any of the bands who played Pitchfork this year. I try not to talk too much about what “things were like back then.” Mostly, when I skirt too close to the edge, it makes me want to run home.
I missed Spinning class this morning. And then the tire blew on the jogging stroller. And then I almost passed out 25 minutes into my run, and had a migraine come on before I headed home. None of these things are travesties. They were just annoyances I needed to shake off so I could perform later in the day. We brought AG – Scott has performed at this event before, and we cleared it with the organizers. I probably don’t need to tell you it was a big mistake.
The place was jam-packed, and hot, and AG refused to nap the entire day leading up to the performance. I think I did just fine – if you’d like to hear the Podcast later, you can find it here – but AG was restless, my migraine lingered and I felt so ridiculously out of sorts I wanted to peel my skin off. We feared being “those people,” so we left two acts in as to not to disturb anyone else’s performance. As good as AG is, we like to set up her – and ourselves – for success, and tonight that just wasn’t the way to do it.
We stopped off at Whole Foods to treat ourselves to some cheese and wine for a date night at home. We watched “For Your Consideration.” AG has long been asleep, Scott is playing video games downstairs, and I’m getting ready to go to bed.
****
I tell you all of this because in hindsight, I did too much. I’m not ready yet to go back into this world with the gusto and bravado I did before AG. I completely and totally ignored my stupid Three Pillars, and it’s left me exhausted. Spent. I took on way too much in an effort to be way too much and I paid for it in having a totally shit day all around, and no matter what I did, it just got worse and worse and I felt worse and worse.
AG was pretty cute, though. If only she’d nap, for the Love of God.
I’m performing in October at Tuesday Funk. Truth be told, I think it’ll be a little easier for me to read at Funk, mostly because I can write a personal essay – which is more natural to me, and less stress inducting – and I have some more time. The challenge with Paper Machete is that it’s a topical event, and you pretty much work on it in the days immediately leading up to it. I have some more breathing room with Tuesday Funk. All that said, I think I’m done with these for the rest of the year. I can’t do it.
I call uncle.
