Dear Back on Track

Dear Back on Track,

It's really tough getting you after being sick. Especially after being sick and then having to work the whole weekend, and then having to go back to work without having gotten any real rest from working even after being sick. It's tough.

I had a few opportunities over the last couple days to get you with this blog thing. I did. I'm not going to lie about it because there's nothing to lie about. That's just how it is. I could have done it. But I didn't want to. The act of recovering from sickness puts me in this state of mind where I don't have to do anything I don't absolutely want to do in the name of "getting better." It's kind of nice, really. But then there's always the battle with myself when I start reaching that point in time that signifies the line between being lazy and recovering. And it's a tough boundary to cross.

Why? I think we've been over this, mostly. It's due to my whole momentum-based life. If I allow myself the excuse of sickness to not do something, the more days I allow myself to use that excuse, the more momentum that builds up. Then, next thing I know, I've been okay for three weeks, and I haven't done anything but lie around "feeding my sickness," and I feel worthless and overly full. It's dangerous. Getting you is no easy feat for a momentum-based man such as myself.

But that doesn't mean it's impossible. Because - of course - I have this thing called pride. And that pride causes me to need to be productive with my life or else feel like a piece of excrement. And I don't like feeling like a piece of excrement. Therefore, I find myself getting you in spite of my natural tendency to latch onto any excuse for NOT doing something productive with my time.

And it's really quite amazing, I think. If I could share the experience of being inside my own head, I think people would realize what an epic struggle that can be and become very impressed with my extraordinary strength of will in being able to overcome that and do something like write this letter. Very impressed, indeed. Sometimes, I get so impressed and proud of myself for overcoming that struggle that it almost overwhelms me and causes me to use being overwhelmed as an excuse not to continue. It's kind of crazy, really.

But I am getting you. For real. It starts with this letter, but it continues with getting back to work on the song I began before my little sickness took over. Then it moves into catching up on my teaching preparations at school, so that I'm not scrambling every morning to get ready for the kids (because I usually do all of that in the afternoons, but my sickness and need for recovery caused me to leave earlier than usual, taking away from that valuable time). After that? Play two football games this Sunday and try to get back a little bit of that shape I lost over the last two weeks of near inactivity. And then I'll be completely you.

Of course, that makes me think of all the other ways I could get you in terms of things I was doing in the past that I stopped doing. Drawing is one of those things. Cooking is another (although I DID cook up some halibut for dinner tonight - not bad). Reading would be nice. Calling various friends with whom I have not conversed in many months.

There are a lot. So many, that it's almost overwhelming. Which makes me not want to do it at all.

But I shall overcome. Because getting you is important to me. And I have this Light Therapy Lamp, and the only way to prove that it truly works is to up my productivity and keeping-in-touch-ness over the course of this winter. And so I shall start with this letter, continue through football, and keep going all the way through writing the next great novel.

That's how important getting you is, Back on Track. So thank you for providing that motivation and keeping me focused. Because - otherwise - I might just be lying on a couch eating salty potato chips right now - and forevermore.

Sitting in a Chair in Front of a Computer, Instead,
CVT

*It's also hard to get you when this website won't allow me to attach a photo to go with this letter, as I have become accustomed to. ARGH.