Elgan speaks
...and her words thunder across the land

Full to overflowing, and then some.

Tuesday, Aug. 26, 2008
11:29 a.m.
Summer is waning and I have accomplished very little. Well, maybe that’s not really true, but it seems that I spend inordinate amounts of time in front of the computer, doing absolutely useless things. I play games mostly, if you must know. I read blogs and occasionally write them. Last night, however, I made business cards for my husband’s jazz trio to hand out at the gig they’re playing this morning. It was so simple, and I did it so quickly. There are dozens of computer-related jobs I should be doing, and yet I don’t do any of them until I absolutely have to.

For example, when I produced the parts for Hubby’s first symphony, we were so pressed for time that I got him to finish certain of them by hand as the last pages were more illustration than notation and it would have taken me too long to tweak them on the computer to look just right. I mean, we were seriously on the edge with that one, pulling all-nighters and needing to get the package out that morning or we didn’t go on our trip to the Caribbean as planned. So one thing I have on my plate is to finish those particular parts so we can make pdf-format files of them and send them off to the Canuck Music Centre. I have not done that.

I have also not finished recopying some songs that accidentally got erased (don’t ask, it had something to do with transferring files from one computer to another, etc.). I have a long list of documents to convert to pdf format. I also have a list of compositions that I hand copied before the era of computers and that need to be scanned and processed. Little Princess will be taking her scanner with her when she leaves in less than a week’s time, so I guess that’s another job that won’t get done.

There is a pile of mending beside my sewing table dating back years. There is a bag of fabric and a pattern I bought in January of 2003(!) which I have not yet sewn. My dresser is littered with stuff that I never get around to either throwing out or putting away. My sewing table is covered with similar items. There is a box of books on the floor next to my bed overflowing because I haven’t read them yet and keep adding to them. There are bags of stuff unsorted in the reading room which Buddy Boy was just going to chuck a year ago and I stopped him, since he hadn’t sorted them into recyclables, reusables and real garbage. The kitchen bookshelves are full of newspaper clippings (not my fault!) and magazines. The magazine rack itself is overflowing. The dining room table is covered, and I do mean covered with junk, mostly Hubby’s, but probably some of mine as well.

In other words, what the hell am I doing playing computer games when I should be cleaning up my house? Even my computer desk is a holy mess. Both desks, in fact, even though I don’t use the old computer anymore. Next to me there are boxes of books and magazines that I don’t have bookshelf space for. The list just goes on and on and on. My living space is an amazing amount of clutter. Just think what my mind is like!

But the worst part is that I haven’t practised singing since last spring. School starts in a few weeks, which means teaching begins, and I sound like a raspy raven, which is not a good thing. I wouldn’t be able to demonstrate right now to save my life. Also, in a month’s time, Hubby and I are supposed to perform on a faculty recital. We’ll do some jazz standards, which are not difficult to sing by any means, but I still want to sound good. So what is keeping me from sitting down at the piano and practising? When did I develop this inertia?

In other news, I spoke to my mother yesterday. It sounds like her memory is getting even worse. I had to tell her yet again that her husband, my father, has been dead for eight years. When I asked her about the new medication she is supposed to be taking, she said she doesn’t think she’s getting any pills at all. Last week she was terribly upset because she’d misplaced her purse with her wallet and money and carfare, and when I asked her about it yesterday, she didn’t recall ever having a purse of that description.

All this is taking an incredible toll on me. Worst of all, she knows that her mind is going, and yet she doesn’t really know why. I have never candy coated things for her, and explained that she probably has vascular dementia, a symptom of age and the collapse of biological systems. She understands my explanation, but it really doesn’t accomplish anything. There is no reversal; and as she gets closer to the bottom of the hill that is her life, the rate of deterioration increases, just as a ball accelerates as it is pulled along by gravity.

Life really sucks, you know?



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