At the Copa, Copacabana

I have had this song in my head for weeks. I even proactively downloaded it from iTunes and sand along with it in the hopes of banishing it for another decade or so, but alas, I'm stuck with Manilow. Despite my desire to appear cool and admit to only liking hip indie bands, there's something amusing about the songs of my childhood that I never felt I "should" like but do. Now that I'm all-growed-up-and-shit, I feel like I can sing along to whatever the hell I want without the sting of disapproval that used to wound me so.

"Her name was Lola..."

Oy. I've had strep throat this week, and I'm more than a little dismayed at how little it altered the course of said week, except for the fact that I ran through my days feeling like I wanted to die. I only called out one class and still managed to get work done instead of resting on that day, even after a trip to the doctor told me I was quite ill. Perhaps my need to accomplish has become pathological at this point - an OCD kind of thing that dominates my reason and otherwise good common sense. Even today, only two days after the start of antibiotics, I got up and immediately created a daunting to do list; Jamison noted "I can always tell when you're feeling better but not 100%, because you start in on obsessively cleaning and then sit down ten minutes later." Apparently this is my M.O. because he recognizes it - and let's face it, him being a man and all, if he notices patterns of my behavior that do not result directly in affecting him, it must be worth noting. I don't mean that in a snarky way, either.

I have, however, decided to evaluate a bit of my hair-on-fire life routine today, particularly with regard to how I contracted strep in the middle of the summer and while I'm the healthiest I've ever been. I've always operated a pretty high level - that is, I'm accustomed to people asking me, "how do you do it all?" and my response is: "I dunno. I just do." But in the last year especially, I've noticed that I am not getting things done the way I used to. This must be attributed to one of two possible factors: (1) I'm trying to do too much, or (2) I'm getting older, slowing down a bit, and trying to do too much. Then there's (3), which is that I've had a rubbish year on the whole, have been in and out of hospital, and had a child who underwent major surgery. You don't need to write me and tell me that it's of course, all three of those things, complicated by a dozen other factors of which I am keenly aware.

"With yellow feathers in her hair, and a dress cut down to there....She would Merengue ...."

So what's the answer? How can I put things on hold, say no, or simply not achieve the things I've set out to do? The answer - sad as it is - is I don't know. My adult identity is somehow wrapped up in, or completely absorbed by, this need I have to "get things done." Time to re-evaluate. Will keep you posted.

"They were young and they had each other, who could ask for more?"