I’ve been having an excruciatingly clumsy two days. During that time, I have:
Hit myself in the right knee with the drum.
Slipped and fell on a hardwood floor and landed on my left knee. Hit myself in the head with the car door (which has left a nice little sore bump right at the hairline).
I’m currently afraid to carry things up steps.
We are on the third floor of a building.
This trip has been very panic-stricken and depressing for me. The abysmal weather, the painful open mics, meager turnouts and CD sales, our lawyer’s news that the insurance company has put in a ridiculously low bid in another case that’s being worked out with the firm means our own case does not bode quick and easy for us, the tragedy in our Providence host’s life that prompted him to rush off to Kansas our last day in town … all of these have left me feeling afraid and uneasy. Even the surprise visit of Cat and Jason, perfectly (albeit traffic-induced) timed to coincide with the howling part in “Deep in the AM” that announced their arrival, was marred a bit by the fact that rob and I could not produce a decent-attendence show in the day and a half they were with us. I was so embarrassed. Because it’s not always like that, I swear. But when I’m already down about it, it’s even worse to know that other people – people you know and whose opinions you actually care about – are getting to see your failures first-hand.
And somehow rob and I missed the obvious potential problem of doing a New England stint during finals week at nearly all of the colleges. We might have very well shot ourselves in the feet this way. About the best thing right now is the couple good dinners I’ve managed to come by, and the cat that sat for thirty minutes bathing itself in my lap.
Living the dream. Everyone thinks you are doing better than you really are, and definitely better than they are. This is almost always inaccurate. Everyone thinks you understand something that they don’t. Have found the key to success that they don’t have. Well, let me tell you, this week and a half we don’t have any keys other than the ones I bought in a Providence antique store, and God only knows what they opened in their days.
