C'mon In, 2010
It's 5.45 on a Tuesday, I'm in my nightie -- that's 5.45 pm -- and I'm eating honey soy chicken chips while someone else cooks dinner for my kids. These facts clearly indicate that the new year didn't get off to such an auspicious start.
Never mind. Earlier today I strong-armed an unsuspecting GP (and fellow Greenwich mum) into giving me the big guns (antibiotics) and despite the fact I got blindsided by a vicious cold the minute I started a detox week on Sunday morning I'm sure I'll feel awright by tomorrow, just in time to trudge into work for my first big clinical day of the year. Decade, even.
I haven't written a word since the 4th of July, when I did the last bits on my book, at a sandy table in a stormy Gulf Breeze, Florida. In the absence of any other real professional prospects (and because 160-character Facebook status updates just aren't enough for me anymore) I've decided to start a blog. I think I miss having something to obsess about. (At this point I have to admit that it's daunting, "publishing" something that hasn't been scrutinised by my editor, twice.)
2009 was a rough year. I was happy to see the back of it, even though by all accounts I accomplished quite a bit, catching up to a deadline that had whizzed past me some two years earlier and building my little practice into a thriving business. But between losing my friend Melissa to pancreatic cancer, publicising a tell-most memoirs and being financially challenged for the first time in my adult life, my emotional repertoire feels as stretched and cracked as an old rubberband, and I don't even care that I've mixed my metaphors, that's how difficult it's been.
So I headed toward the end of the first decade of the millenium depressed; not as flamboyantly, frighteningly depressed as I was at the beginning of the decade, mind you. It was more like an annoying, Eeyore-style gloom, the kind that lifts when you're drinking champagne with friends or find yourself by the water on a sparkling Sydney summer day but envelopes you when you're trying to do something useful, like the shopping, or answering emails, or conversing with your partner. It's like living the kind of weather that doesn't stay fine enough to plan a picnic.
But when I smacked myself upside the head a couple times and broadened my perspective, the dawn of a new decade (oooh, that's nice and dramatic) is an excellent time to look back on the life and death of the previous one, rather than focussing on the tantrum-prone child that was 2009. Let's see, I had my fourth baby, found a husband on Ebay, acquired two more kids, cheered on my daughter through her HSC, moved, started a private practice, signed a book deal, got a big mistake of a tattoo, moved again, fixed aforementioned tattoo (that's a story for another blog), moved again, and that's just me . That's not even taking into consideration the people I love and clients I cherish and all their changes and triumphs that I've been honoured to witness or even be part of.
So with all that at my back I'm joyful, exhuberant even, to face this new decade with open arms. C'mon in, 2010. Show us what you got.
Never mind. Earlier today I strong-armed an unsuspecting GP (and fellow Greenwich mum) into giving me the big guns (antibiotics) and despite the fact I got blindsided by a vicious cold the minute I started a detox week on Sunday morning I'm sure I'll feel awright by tomorrow, just in time to trudge into work for my first big clinical day of the year. Decade, even.
I haven't written a word since the 4th of July, when I did the last bits on my book, at a sandy table in a stormy Gulf Breeze, Florida. In the absence of any other real professional prospects (and because 160-character Facebook status updates just aren't enough for me anymore) I've decided to start a blog. I think I miss having something to obsess about. (At this point I have to admit that it's daunting, "publishing" something that hasn't been scrutinised by my editor, twice.)
2009 was a rough year. I was happy to see the back of it, even though by all accounts I accomplished quite a bit, catching up to a deadline that had whizzed past me some two years earlier and building my little practice into a thriving business. But between losing my friend Melissa to pancreatic cancer, publicising a tell-most memoirs and being financially challenged for the first time in my adult life, my emotional repertoire feels as stretched and cracked as an old rubberband, and I don't even care that I've mixed my metaphors, that's how difficult it's been.
So I headed toward the end of the first decade of the millenium depressed; not as flamboyantly, frighteningly depressed as I was at the beginning of the decade, mind you. It was more like an annoying, Eeyore-style gloom, the kind that lifts when you're drinking champagne with friends or find yourself by the water on a sparkling Sydney summer day but envelopes you when you're trying to do something useful, like the shopping, or answering emails, or conversing with your partner. It's like living the kind of weather that doesn't stay fine enough to plan a picnic.
But when I smacked myself upside the head a couple times and broadened my perspective, the dawn of a new decade (oooh, that's nice and dramatic) is an excellent time to look back on the life and death of the previous one, rather than focussing on the tantrum-prone child that was 2009. Let's see, I had my fourth baby, found a husband on Ebay, acquired two more kids, cheered on my daughter through her HSC, moved, started a private practice, signed a book deal, got a big mistake of a tattoo, moved again, fixed aforementioned tattoo (that's a story for another blog), moved again, and that's just me . That's not even taking into consideration the people I love and clients I cherish and all their changes and triumphs that I've been honoured to witness or even be part of.
So with all that at my back I'm joyful, exhuberant even, to face this new decade with open arms. C'mon in, 2010. Show us what you got.
Keep it up! Me Like...
ReplyDeleteIt's been four days... Time for more!!!! ;)
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