Fevered for Spring

What a nasty, pissy day out there. I left this morning for drill, just a few minutes late though I woke early. I didn't realize how slimy it was outside, at least not consciously. I suspect I was aware at some level, which is why I unknowingly got going late. Then, I had to turn around just five minutes out of the house as I'd forgotten cash. Exchange Theatre is in a slight bind, and I generally make a donation once a year. So, this will be next year's donation a few months early. I don't have extra in my checking account, but I did have cash on hand, since my roommate likes to pay the rent in cash. By the time I left the house the second time my gloves were already soaked through. That doesn't usually happen until the end of my commute.

I was late and the miserable traffic made me more so, but our drill was kind of laid back. Perfect for me today. After that, back into the wet gear (yuck), and back into the fray. Drivers tend to create traffic jams in pissy weather, which is simply evil Murphyism for those of us exposed to the elements. I've two more rides to make today. To the chiropractor, then home. When I get home the sheets go in the wash, then when they go in the dryer, I'll go to the tub. Going to sleep early looking like a prune with nice clean toasty sheets. Mmm. I feel better already.

John left copies of The Venetian Twins by Goldoni for us to pick up at class on Tuesday. (We don't have acting on Tuesday.) I'd planned to read the first twenty pages last night, and read the first sixty-four, and had to force myself to put it down so I could get to sleep. I may have the whole thing read in time for Friday's class. I didn't expect that.

It seems my life a lot about going to sleep these days. Right now I'm not quite warm after my morning commutes and the hot bath or a roaring fire sound wonderful. I should stop making sleep a solo act in the next year. I had a wretched, short and mean little marriage, which I let destroy my soul for as long again as the relationship lasted, about three years. Maybe a bit longer. I studiously avoided relationships and have not been emotionally or physically intimate since some short flings in the Philippines shortly after the divorce. Been celibate, physically (and emotionally) since late December of 1990 on my way to Desert Shield/Storm.

The last five years I haven't wanted to deal with a committed relationship, as I've been all over the place in my exploration of art and my own soul. It was in many respects a selfish search, and I wanted to focus on me, something I hadn't done since I was seven. I think I let distance become habit in the last year or two or three. I've been stable enough to have a relationship for a while. Meaning my continued growth is beyond the point where I'll be unrecognizable in a couple months.

So I went from avoiding relationships, not wanting to deal with the pain, to not wanting to compromise the self-care and growth I was experiencing. It is past time to move on. I told myself I had to focus in self-growth mode longer than I really needed, though I certainly needed it before attempting to inflict myself on someone in a committed relationship. Habit, my biggest stumbling block, and comfort (stasis). Maybe my new habit of liking to scare myself will pay off.

Bad timing though. I don't have time right now, literally. In truth, I have been open to a relationship for a while, but haven't done anything about it. That needs to change -- the universe won't drop a mate right in my lap. Unless I make myself available. That's way out of my comfort zone, and I want a partner. Hell, sometimes I just want to get laid! I'm not a bar scene kind of guy, and physical relationships for me are either based on a deep emotional bond or nothing. Different ends of the spectrum. Either a committed relationship or a mutual joy-ride where both parties are unashamedly using the other. The little head doesn't care, but the big head doesn't want to hurt anyone, including me, out of carelessness.