Sorry for the bluntness of the title, but it almost perfectly encapsulates my current state.
For about the last 7 days I have been in the deep end of the funk-this-shirt pool and I felt a little like I was drowning.
Last month I shot a Father-Daughter Dance. The pix were magic. The night was amazing. The families over 100 of them had a great time. I put the memory card in my work bag, thinking it to be the safest place.
Long story short, there was an issue and I needed to go back to the memory card to pull the shots off and do the edits over again.
The memory card wasn't there.
The little malaise I had found myself in started to take more of a flat spin. I remembered back to the last time I had physically seen the card and where.
Only it wasn't in that bag. That bag was the bag I took to NY for a business trip.
It was empty. I had moved everything back in to my daily work bag.
Everything, it seems, except the memory card I needed.
7 days of tearing my apartment to shreds (seriously...it's a friggin' mess over here). And no joy.
I had to tell my client...my friend...that there may be no pictures. As much as everything has been piling lately this was a conversation that nearly had me in tears.
I had resigned to the fact that...if it happened, as insanely shitty as it would be, I would have to deal with whatever the fallout was.
The soul crushing weight was only slightly eased by the acceptance of the situation.
I sat on my couch googling recipes for a hemlock cocktail when it hit me.
I was sitting on the couch when I changed from my travel bag to my daily bag.
Sitting on the couch.
The couch cushions don't come out. If something falls, it's in the crevice. I felt again. And there was a hole in the lining.
I lifted the couched and pulled off one side of the bottom liner.
And I saw it.
The memory card.
I damn near cried tears of joy. OK. Shut up. I did cry. So?!?
The feeling of release as the weight just completely fucked off is indescribable.
And now there's a tiny little apartment that needs some serious cleaning. Which is cool. I have been meaning to do this anyway. Not necessarily with the do-or-die-find-it-or-else vibe that's been there this week, but you know, spring cleaning. It's about 3 years overdue.
If you're reading this...any of the 8 of you that read this...if you need a laptop bag (primarily messenger), please let me know. I have several very nice ones, including a brief case, that will need good homes soon.
Funny thing about today's Holy Grail Moment...It might have happened last night. But last night I forced myself to go outside (like way the hell outside) of my comfort bubble. My friend Chris was having a gathering of hometown writers. Writers...editors...artists...publishers...all of whom were friends of his. Some were in the local writing group we're in. The others were in a group he's in up near Mt. Vernon/Ashland way.
I knew when I accepted the invite 2 months ago that I would have a high probability of trying to find a plausible sounding excuse to politely bow out and give in to my burgeoning introvert (being a crazy old hermit takes practice, after all). This week as shit was hitting the fan I made a bold move. I committed to bringing a dish. If I commit to bring something, there's a less likely chance that I will bow out (self-awareness is a wonderful thing).
So...I made an eclair cake. I showed up an hour late. And you know what?
I had a fucking amazing time. I left the CPAP at home because I convinced myself that it would be better to not stay all night (rookie mistake that I won't make again).
I learned quite a lot. I made some great connections, and more importantly, I think I made some friends.
That positive vibe coupled with the whole finding that which was lost thing this afternoon have me awash in happy contented relief.
Things are taking a turn for the good.
Alright. I really should shower and try to make some progress in this apartment before the UN sends a peacekeeping force over.
Have a kick ass day my friends!
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