Notes from the Red Bird House

When I was young, playing junior and college tennis, we called it 'treeing'. After so many years away from the game and with the way slang changes anyway, I'm not sure they still call it that. I honestly haven't heard the term since returning to tennis a year ago. Back in the day 'treeing' was a good thing. Unless you were playing against it. 'Treeing' meant that you couldn't miss. 'Treeing' meant you could swing wildly with your eyes closed and the ball would still fall in for a winner. 'Treeing' meant you could try shots you always missed and come away with a winner. 'Treeing' meant you could do everything you should never do and still hit a winner. 'Treeing' meant you were having a can't miss day. In tennis, these are the best kind of days, the kind of days that renew your faith and remind you why you love the game. They also make up for all the shitty days; the days you couldn't hit water if you fell out

I can't tell if I feel like dog shit this morning because I finally slept off a little of my recent sleep deprivation or because for the first time in eighteen months, I'm back on my Anti-Everything Pills (called 'AEPs' from here forward). Of course it could also be a lack of caffeine.  Luckily my head hurts too bad to worry too much about it. Moving forward, I'm going to say that it's a mix of all three. This week sucked on many levels. I'll only bore you with a few of those. The rest will remain my private battle because I don't believe this blog is the right place to air workplace grievances. Suffice it to say, actions this week at work did nothing to assuage the general suckiness that surrounded my week. If anything, they made it worse, far, far worse. I'm left with what I'm left with in that arena and the words 'It's whatever' ringing in my ears. Recovering from that part of my week will take more than a decent night's slee

I am burdened tonight by something. Assuredly it's nothing. Or will be nothing tomorrow. It's just to do with tonight and the darkness and the cool breeze. It's the light coming in my bedroom window and the knowledge that my alarm is going to go off much earlier than I would like. It's being here. And not there. Even though 'there' is as mysterious as it's always been. It's absence. And presence. It's the memory of a wind chime and moonlight, of everything that came before. It's a choice. Or maybe a dozen of them. It's being and having and doing. It's wanting and dreaming and wishing. It's the feeling of a gun to the head and happiness held hostage. It's the beat of the heart and a tear in the soul. It is a tonight that won't be tomorrow.

Eleven years ago today, I resolved something. I decided; I made a pact with myself. I was going to do something outside the box. Well, outside my box. I was going to stop procrastinating. I was going to say, 'Hello'. It sounds so simple. 'Hello' or maybe just 'Hi'. Or 'Hey'. I'm sure 'Hey' would have worked. Regardless, eleven years ago today (We can debate why I still remember the date or we can just let that part go. I'd prefer we let it go), I resolved to speak; say anything. 'Hello', 'Hi', and 'Hey' were probably the most logical choices. It would make sense to say any one of the three. That, a smile, and a little eye contact. That was the plan. Did I follow through? No, but it wasn't my fault. I was ready, so ready, so very, very ready. And then... She spoke first. With my plan skittering uncontrollably away, I had to improvise. 'Hello', 'Hi', or 'Hey', the options I'd practic

I don't know what to do with myself. I have a little over an hour until good TV starts and I'm at a loss. Thank goodness for school. School means I rarely have this problem. Thus far today I've been to the gym, played tennis, and run errands so all that's out. Dinner? Just finished. Clean the bathroom? I'm dog sitting for a friend and I don't see myself cleaning someone else's bathroom given that I so seldom clean my own. Take a walk? Actually that's a great idea, but I'm writing now. It took me a solid minute to decide to do this and I don't want to ruin it now. Initially I thought I might write some fiction tonight. You know, maybe add a chapter or two to the novel, but then I remembered that I'm supposed to be on break from school. I spent the semester working on the novel and I'm going to spend a good portion of next semester doing the same. It's like when I abandoned my winter break reading list. I rationalized that I needed th