I am out of practice interacting with my fellow humans. I worked too long in retail. It made me wary of people. Working retail often meant long hectic hours of multitasking with cranky crowds. I left retail employment last April. Even amongst old friends, I find it difficult to string words together in a way that makes sense, much less with any charm, sparkle or humor. I get so tired shopping, talking to strangers, driving around in traffic and generally living in a congested boomtown city full of lost newcomers who are unfamiliar with the drill. I know this is not a good, or necessarily healthy, attitude to have.
I am out of practice updating the blog. Apologies to my eleven (!) loyal readers.
I am out of practice being artistic. I used to paint backdrops, build displays, artfully arrange things and "style" outfits or spaces as part of my job. I miss the "styling" part of being a retail stylist. I am taking a weekly drawing class currently, but it's not enough to keep the ennui at bay. I am not one to sketch, sculpt and schlep out the acrylics for the sake of being creative. I am task-driven. I want to make it pretty while checking off to-do items. Again, this may not be a good or healthy attitude to have in regards to creativity.
I am out of practice going to the gym regularly. I am currently taking a TRX class (visualize resistance bands and tortuous looking strap-contraptions) at my gym. The first three weeks of that class, I could barely walk without pain and whimpering for days afterwards. This past week, I gave it my all in class, kept good form, and I am not sore. Maybe my atrophied muscles are recovering some of their memory, and growing stronger. This is certainly good and healthy. Gold star.
I am out of practice being thin. I no longer forget to eat due to stress or hectic schedules. I eat when I feel like it. Many of my clothes are tight, or too small to the point of being unwearable now. I remember at the height of stress during a former job, I had hives, hemorrhoids and was down to my middle school weight, wearing a size 4. My hair was long with neglect and not colored in ages. People kept telling me how great I looked while I felt like the floor was slipping out from beneath me. A close friend squeezed my thigh grinning with gleeful admiration and told me, "You're so skinny! You look perfect!" No one is telling me how great I look right now except for my awesome husband. In my humble opinion, it is not a good or healthy thing to admire someone with a stress-riddled, sickly, starved physique. I own these curves I have now. They are not perfect, but they are literally part of me.
I am out of practice being an insomniac. No longer do I toss and turn restlessly in bed. No longer do I bolt upright from slumber suddenly wondering where I am supposed to be at that moment. No longer do I resist naps, or resist going back to sleep midmorning. I love sleep. Sleep and I got a thing going on right now. It's good stuff. Twinkly silver stars for both of us.
I am out of practice improvising. Scripted acting? No problem. I got this. But when that fourth wall comes down and I am expected to interact with the audience, or when I am expected to create a scene and situation on the fly, right now, not so much. I once excelled at improvisational acting, but those muscles are weak. My "yes, and..." got up and went.
I am out of practice pretending like I want to climb any kind of career ladder. I was never great at aspiring to advance in the workplace. Currently, I think I should find a new gig, but I am directionless and uninspired. I like housewife-ing and caring for my menagerie of pets. It's kind of time consuming.
Some of the things I am out of practice with can stay out of practice. Some of the things I am out of practice with should make a practiced, triumphant return. I'll keep you, Loyal Readers, apprised of the situations.