Oops, I bit it again!

My calendar has been, um, crammed and jammed with activities.

Last Monday, for example, if you had Truman Show-style access to my life, you would have seen me wake up at 6:15 for my job. I fed two cats, sanitized their dishes, cleaned their litter boxes, let one outside to play, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, did laundry, worked on the garden, picked and juiced lemons, exercised, took out recycling, composted food scraps, made lunch for Grandma J, processed and jarred some garlic, made lemon-shallot salad dressing, prepared from scratch two raw organic lunches, placed them in Pyrex containers for two violets to enjoy at the studio, bagged these plus utensils, snacks, and drinks, cleaned the kitchen, showered in a hurry, and tried to make my overgrown hair look decent before driving for 45 minutes under the gorgeous post-rain sky while listening to some KUSC fundraising programming, only to cry when Puccini came on. I vowed to make a pledge once at the studio.

I ended up making that contribution later in the week because, when I arrived, I immediately started recording backups for "Star Stuff." Silas and I kept our traditional banter to a minimum so as to maximize our four hours together. I sneaked some food in when I was not behind the mic layering extra prettiness on the track. He would not try the raw cheesecake I made the night before, even though it was the best I've made thus far, and Luke told him so. Silas left at 7:30. We grabbed some dinner at Cru and were at Spaceland in time for Blank Blue. The power went out during their set, which was cool as a member of the audience, left to wander in the dark, waiting, wondering, but less cool for the band on the stage, who could not complete their set, and even less cool for the following band/our new friends, Vaudeville, who weren't able to play at all. We stayed until LeSwitch's impressive impromptu blackout performance was over, and I drove Luke back to the studio. Then I drove my own ass back home.

So, ahh, I am in bed by 2:30 and awake at 6:15 Tuesday morning to do more of the same, except this time, instead of watching a show, I am the show. I have not practiced enough; I don't feel good about it. We load in. We play. It's fun. We have our pictures taken. I am grateful to have some new images, but I am also freezing, and I can't look cold. I am in bed by 5. I sleep in until 9:30, so I am behind on everything.

Needless to say, important things like sleep, exercise, and food slipped off my calendar, and I woke up with a runny nose on Sunday. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want bad vibes: I had to be well. I made time to get my hair cut in Santa Monica, walked briskly by the dog adoptions and the farmers' market, and drove home via the PCH to get started on some food prep for the busy week ahead, but, by Monday afternoon, I wasn't fooling anyone; my breathing was officially compromised.

Even though many people live like this, the kind of schedule described above is not ideal for me. It's what I consider burning the candle at both ends, but I hadn't thought of it that way because I hadn't the time to consider it. Plus, I was feeling so good I figured I was immune.

Alas, I am not. I'm not a robot. I have corporeal requirements.

Although I am not in-bed-can't-move sick, my vocal clarity isn't good today, and it was not great yesterday either. That was the trouble: I was certainly up for a performance, emotionally poised and enthusiastic, but my sinuses were not in agreement. Neither was Luke. He told me to stay home, and he kept me posted on things that I missed via text, email, and pics, so I was there in spirit.

I lost my balance. I fell off health and bit it. I caught the sniffles. I had to cancel two shows in one day, and, apart from the disappointment of not being able to keep my musical commitments, what really irked me was the shame of being the "healthy" girl who caught a mild cold. It made me feel like a you-know-what.

I need to be more accepting of myself. I am so eager for the good-to-perfect end of the spectrum that I don't make room for the not-so-good. It's still not natural for me to just say, "Oops!"

I don't want to be such a hardass when I could instead be honoring myself for the improvements I've made. Two years ago, I was performing with sniffles regularly. I was a mess, but these days I am doing way better. I've got to give myself a little credit. I have to tame that abrasive inner parent of mine into a kinder, more compassionate character, perhaps a grandparent. Maybe Grandma Katie. If she were still around, she would have simply said, "Whoopsie daisy!" and offered to make me a sandwich.