33 years old, and I still do not know the poem; about which months have how many days. And guess what Ma'am Judgev, my grade 3 teacher, I am STILL OK! GET OUTTA HERE WITH YOUR SCREAMING SELF!
I have been waiting patiently for this month, there's a lot I expected from it. Which naturally meant that the TO-DO list, that very-ambitious-and-motivated-Tamara wrote the other day, made me feel so anxious and unhappy this morning. Like what the heck is wrong with her? Didn't she KNOW it would be cold?! Did she not care to think that my favourite blanket has still not dried, and now smells like the inside of a Vuvuzela?! Oh! What about the elevator, did she think that the deadline of the 1st would be met?! Ever the optimist ol' Planning Tamara...
So while doing my morning journaling, letting out all this self induced stress. I realised that "this" was suddenly no fun. Not because the tasks were not fun, but because I somehow made painting a reward for editing a video, writing a blog post, cooking some pierogi. Which is not the way this new version of me likes to roll. As all I want to do, ever, is paint, or mess around - and suddenly, well it's like I made my own 'carrot for a donkey' scenario, and I loathe the thinking behind that ideology. So I listened to my inner-dad voice, which said 'Have fun - that's the point', and had fun. I painted some weird things, I experimented, and suddenly all these commitments I made to myself, seemed more achievable and definitely secondary to my life and existence.
For some people, this may be no big whoop, but for year ago me, this is THE whoop. I was always doing X, Y, Z before doing the things that brought me joy. I would spiral, for weeks, months, denying myself to finish the work for "the greater good". I still do spiral, but the more I become aware of it, before or during the "denial" phase, the more confident I feel that there is hope for me, and maybe many of us, those that were stuck in the rungs of the corporate ladder, taking shit after shit from above in the face. Yeah.
For the past 2 hours, I have been editing a vlog.
My first one. I think I said "Hi, my name is Tamara" 53 million times, at some point, I just wished my name was "Um", as I had said that enough times. I edited 1.5 hours of "footage" into 5 minutes, I don't know, something very humbling about that. I just wonder how long a video of my life would be, if edited down - I don't mean the trailer version, that be definition would be 1-2 minutes long - I mean just an edited version of my most interesting times. My inner-cinema-cynic reckons, they'd hire an actress and put her into a fat suit, slather on some brown makeup and call it a breakthrough. At the same time, I realised I have a very bad habit of explaining things more than I should, I have even done it in this blog. Which doesn't make for good storytelling, I am sure. "This is the balcony, where you can see the other settlements from...no it's not my camera, our apartments are really that close. As you can see, it is green, well teal, but covered in dirt, so green " Dying-laugh, this vlog is gonna max out my awkwardness for the rest of the year - maybe family Christmas will go better for me this year.
Anywho, I guess it will come with practise, and all the cringy things I am putting out now, will either see me moving on to better, OR realising they weren't that bad after all.
Until then, wish me luck for a cool challenge I picked up from the Artfully Wild Blog Along - run by Effy Wild. People endeavour to blog everyday for the entire month, as well as support other bloggers by reading their posts, and commenting on them. I think it's for every post you share, you read 3, and comment on 3. One of my goals for the next 12 months was to create a blogging habit, so this might be the catalyst I needed!
Until next time, Tamka Out!