The Calm After the Storm

After a really rough day, the TED application is in.

As I mentioned in my last post, I pretty drastically edited the text that my stranger/partners (whose idea it was to approach TED) gave to me as their contribution and it just destroyed me today. I was wracked with shame and worry all day until I heard back from them that I could go ahead and submit the altered text.

So the pitch is in and now we wait (without expectation). I may take myself out for dinner. Or not.

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The intensity of the anxiety I felt after editing the Christine/Patrick/Steve text has me feeling like a man returning from the front. It was the third “strike” of the week: First was the scathing letter from the friend who dumped me, then came Rob’s visit during his paranoid schizophrenic attack — and then the edit drama.

No wonder I want to isolate myself. Life is hard.

I am going to talk to Dr. Shoja about the hell I went through recently.  Last night I had to take a blue pill to calm down. I haven’t had one of those for, perhaps, two months.

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I have a friend awaiting a heart transplant. What anxiety he must live with! The surprising thing that has me mentioning this is that his surgeon happened to mention a positive effect of the fentanyl opioid crisis here. There is an abundance of organs for the transplant teams here due to the deaths of so many young and vital people.

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Working on the wheat dress is going to be a trial. So is storing it, moving it and showing it. It is an impractical medium but I think it is going to look okay and it is going to be satisfying to create. I am very keen on this one — not because of how it will look or due to the materials I use, but because of the idea behind it. I love the story and it feels so Canadian to have a wheat dress.