An ER visit and a birthday!

(not) writing in chaos mode

Hello!

I'm writing this the day after my 29th birthday! I'm 29! Weird!

On my birthday morning, my mom called within about 30 seconds of my alarm going off - I guess mother/daughter telepathy is a real thing! So, I was sung happy birthday as soon as possible. Then Adam and I went for a walk and got green juices! Because I'm old now and have to take care of my body! We made breakfast and went to the bookstore and stopped at my favorite local market to get more loose-leaf tea! Exciting things are happening around here!

But actually, it's been a very eventful week for Adam and me - I haven't written a word since Tuesday! I didn't meet my personal deadline of finishing my novel draft by my birthday! I didn't send the finished draft to the first readers! But it's okay.

I realized this wasn't going to happen in the last few days of January and decided not to sulk about it or try to cram to make it work and then end up having to change the whole thing anyway or wasting my birthday weekend away by staring at a screen and feeling horrible because I was going too slow because I was trying to do a week's worth of work in one or two days! And I decided to just start again after my birthday!

The novel goal wasn't hit because Adam ended up in the emergency room for 15 hours (he's okay now! and I'm not going to go on and on about his health things even though I generally consider his signing of a lease with me to be a consent form for me to write about his life! - that's for the emotional experience, not the physical experience) But his hospital visit and my long hours in the waiting room felt like a reasonable excuse to put writing aside. To focus on what was happening in front of me!

When we left for the emergency room I didn't think to bring anything to work on or read and then had to stare at my phone for approximately four hours while I waited to be let back into Adam's room. And the whole time I sat there alternating between completely spiraling because Adam was in the emergency room and being angry at myself for not being productive. Capitalism is really working so well for all of us and our mental health, isn't it?!

Anyway, we didn't sleep or eat for almost 24 hours and then we had to jump into "make sure Adam is okay" mode and then we slept for a long time. And had to figure out how to get his strength back up! And by the time he was feeling a little better there was a sixty-degree day in February and we had to go sit in the park and have a picnic! So, I didn't write!

And once he healed up a bit he revealed all his birthday plans for me and we got busy! And I asked him every hour or so if he needed to go home and lie down and he kept saying no so we kept doing things! So, I didn't write!

But we went and did crafts!

And I was surprised with pretty flowers!

And we had some friends over and forgot to take any pictures but Adam made me do a photoshoot by myself after everyone left!

Adam bought me a ton of books for my birthday! And we went to a basketball game a few days before my birthday! And got to watch another game the day before! (Someone go tell 20-year-old Sam she would be excited to turn 29 and also excited to watch a bunch of basketball games and she will probably cry a little bit! But I guess we all change over an almost-decade.)

We balanced the basketball out with a bookstore and art museum - where I got a little slice of green tea cake! And I had to eat the whole thing on my own because Adam is on a special diet right now. It's very weird to spend almost five years offering a bite of everything you eat to someone else and then eating a whole slice of cake by yourself! (I also got the world's best cookie the day before my birthday and got to eat the whole thing as slow as I wanted without having to rush to eat it before he came in with his giant bite sizes! That was exciting!) And we went to a few different pop-up flea market events! And hung out with new friends! And spent time reflecting on what happened while I was 28 and what I hope will happen while I'm 29!

All in all, it was a weird and stressful and scary week followed by a weekend of fun and art and love and all the good things!

And I didn't think about poetry for one second outside of going to get drinks and listen to music with a new friend who is also a poet! Does talking to a poet count as writing a poem? Maybe! For this week, at least! It was my birthday! I can make the rules! (I also yelled "it's my birthday I can cry if I want to" at Adam because he got me a gift I deemed too big and I cried about it and he told me I couldn't cry about getting a gift but I cried more anyways!)

But now, I'm thinking about poetry and thinking about the workshop I taught a few weeks ago and how I talked about a lot of art coming from the hard or scary or sad or traumatic pieces of life, but we don't always want to write about those. I don't want to write a poem about watching Adam be rolled to the surgery room! Because that sucked! But there were good, simple moments too. I'm not feeling overly poetic - or even overly committed to trying - but I guess that's why I started this letter in the first place! To make myself sit down with poetry even when I don't feel like it.

So, a poem draft wrung from my cold, tired hands! It started off miserable and I hated every word I wrote and then I started to love it! It's far from finished! There's not much in here that is working yet! But I think I can make it something! This feels like one I'll actually go back to and edit! (I’d do more now but I’m tired and I have to go watch more basketball! Since that’s my whole personality now!) A messy draft:

CANDLES FLICKER AT THE CRAFT CAFÉ

Each person orders a distraction
on a small metal tray.

The cutesy menu lists talents.
Option 4: a carved rubber stamp.

A man in a beanie brings iced tea
and a set of sharp-edged tools.

I scroll Pinterest and wait
for mild inspiration to pounce 

against the seam of my chest. I don't 
know how to draw a strawberry.

You ask the beanie guy for help
and he sketches in charcoal.

And I hold my breath because
I get angry when I try

and would rather sit still than
admit I want to be good.

But for you I would stand on tables. 
Please don't ask me to.