Its been one of those weeks. Knowing you've reached that stage (finally) when you just want to WORK but other normal stuff gets in the way. You know; the doctor who insists your foot really is going to plop off one day if you don't sort out that infected toe or the refund and change of address form you promised to take to Centrelink for your elderly dad sort of scenarios. Where working out priorities, keeping schedules and making people happy really don't go together. Or at least the internal struggle between one half of you and the other splits into four looks like becoming an uneasy reality.  I know; life, right?

All of us deal with that on and off, in varying degrees but when you are a creative person who battles with the 'wants to' and 'its the right thing to do' all the time, you end up becoming grumpy and irritable because you know which voice wins all the time. The internal struggle is real. You see looming deadlines, people and the normal daily grind as an imposition. But you don't want to offend. You know you really must do the right thing first.  The nice creative decides its best to not rock the boat and wait till time and creativity meet in the middle. You practice tolerant discomfort as you reach an impasse with your inner self that ain't pretty.  

That, my creative lovelies, is my life. It has varying degrees of intensity depending on the day and how bad the anxiety is. However what makes it even more bizarre when, after another sleepless night, you share with the lovely Mr A your frustration and unsettled feelings of trying to 'do'. Or 'be'. He looks at you as if you have suddenly become a fluffy old bear who once again has lost its wonky footing of trying to become a 'normal gal'. Kind of a 'Silly old bear' fond moment and 'you are having a female moment, aren't you?' kind of look. (Infuriating, I know, but he means well). 
'Of course, you have to do it. But you need to block it in your calendar, be strong and say 'no'. Easy. Make time for you. People who know you will understand. Lock the studio door'.
A man's logic. (He is a fellow creative himself, after all)
By that time, I've kind of shifted my mindset all by myself, at least for now. I'm organising in my female brain how I can do ten things at once, manage my need to please as well as paint the world to rights. I think I just needed to voice it, let my anxiety reach its peak and move on. Simples.
I thank Mr A tearfully and felt better. Of course it will work. The words 'no, I'm terribly sorry, but I am awfully busy' echoed in my head and I heard myself saying it firmly, sort of like Felicity Kendall from the Good Life would say it. Kind of jolly.

As I was leaving the room, Mr A called out; 'Oh Jules, hey, I almost forgot. My car needs a service Monday. Let's leave the house at 8 am shall we? And don't you have that doctors appointment at two?'.
Yep.  
I wonder how Frida would have dealt with modern life? 

Cheers, my creative lovelies. 

JFP X