Wednesday, January 29, 2014

8 Minutes

I want to try to explain my absence on this blog.  I KNOW I KNOW that I should be posting at least twice a week.  Here's a BRIEF explanation as to my silence (brief because I have 8... 7 minutes before I have to get Monty up from his nap, walk the dogs real quick, load Monty into the car and head to UCLA for a language study before coming back home, getting him ready for bed, getting myself ready for my gig tonight and then going to said gig.):

Somewhere around Monty's 6th month birthday I was hit with a massive relapse of depression.  I had been riding so high all throughout my pregnancy and for Monty's first few months.  A combination of exhaustion, stress and chemical imbalance caused my mood to plummet HARD.  I have had several severe panic attacks and have almost ended up in the hospital.  Don't worry.  I'm fine.  It's just an obnoxious disease that I have that I sometimes forget to manage properly.

So that's one.

I haven't worked in a while, so we only have one income right now and that does not leave a lot for child care.  All those other mom blogs you read?  They have regular child care.  Or their kids are in daycare or school.  There's no way they're taking care of the children alone during the weekdays and getting a shit ton of content written.

So that's two.

I have been writing my new show since September.   By "writing" I mean having a bunch of anxiety about it, searching for songs online, listening to a ton of music and writing and re-writing the opening a dozen times.  Incidentally, the opening is going to AMAZING.

There's three.

I am telling a story at Public School on the 11th and now have to work on that piece as well.  Since I'm sharing the bill with actual comedy people, I'm feeling SLIGHTLY pressured to, you know, not suck.

There's four.

Since Christmas, probably 80% of the time when he's awake Monty is happy ONLY if he's sitting in my lap.  Being near my lap, or right in front of my lap is not sufficient.  He needs to be IN my lap.  And he's not a little baby anymore.  He's a giant bruiser who wants to put everything in his mouth, most especially whatever it is I am holding and/or focusing on at the moment.  He doesn't even want to do anything once he's in my lap besides stand on me and either bite my collar bone or make fart sounds on my shoulder with his mouth.  I KNOW that some day I will long for the days when he wanted to cuddle in my lap, but when it's all day every day, that shit gets old FAST.  Plus, biting is not the same as cuddling.

There's five.

I have one free night this week... correction: I HAD one free night this week and I ended up having to spend three hours putting myself on tape for three different projects.  I am NOT complaining.  I am JAZZED to be auditioning.  But it takes time.

That's six.

By the time Kurt gets home from work at about 6:45 my brain is mushed and the only thing rolling around in it are the god damned tinkly songs that come out of Monty's various devil toys.  Until bedtime at which point my brain goes on full power and I have to take a Xanax just to get to sleep.  Techinically THAT'S the time I should get up and write, right?  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck you.

That's seven.

Also, this.  I mean, come on.

Please forgive any typos and my shitty attitude.  I'm now running ten minutes late.