The end of my summer course is coming up very shortly, and the project I've taken on (let's call it "thesis in disguise") is demanding some long hours.
The scope of it has turned out to be too large for the length of this mini-semester -- no surprise, given the amount of material I started with -- but whatever I turn in to my professor on Sunday won't be the end of the work. Just a "here's how far I got" submission. I'm hoping, after that, to keep going with this research into the fall so that it might help generate the writing I wasn't able to accomplish in the spring. So far, it's already done that -- just a few paragraphs, nothing huge. But they feel solid, and that is huge to me.
I'm wary. I feel like I'm emerging from a hole or a cave or somebody's badly ventilated basement. I'm afraid of things that will send me back to that place. My parents are coming to visit in exactly two weeks. And I think, if you've been following along, you know how much of an impact they can have on me, despite my best efforts.
The parents Troubadour love their food -- love eating it, planning where they'll get it next, taking special trips just to enjoy rarer forms of it, talking about it ad nauseum. An extended visit from them means their food obsession, among other delightful traits of theirs, will be unavoidable. For me and my food anxieties, this is suboptimal. Issues of control and neglect that have entangled us since we became a family get exacerbated, which either leads to ugly confrontations or one or more of us stuffing our emotions away because that's just how we've survived with one another.
Obviously, stuffing how I feel into the equivalent of a mental basement doesn't make for progress on my writing since my writing is about how I feel ...
So I'm putting some professional backup in place. First, the nutrition guru I found a month ago. Secondly, the counselor she recommended for the other work -- beyond just food -- that has to go hand-in-hand with the work I'm doing with her. I've started seeing the new counselor in the last few weeks, and I feel much more at ease with her than with the previous guy. So they're my go-to peeps for the twelve days in August during which D and I will be playing hosts (and afterward too).
In the meantime, we're preparing the house. We've had boxes in the hall since our guest room painting project began, and they've needed a place to go. There's no basement here, but we do have a garage, which Marketing Sis helped me paint last summer.
So last week, D and I finally got around to this:
What is it? Well, let's try a different view:
No? All right, then; how about this:
Yes, we put up shelves! And I learned how to wield this:
My parents, and all the insecurities they revive in me, may be looming in my future, but for a few days last week, I got some major !!! from revving that drill.
Now if we can just get everything sorted onto the shelves before my folks arrive ...
13 hours ago