I spent the past few days in Canada, the province of Ontario, weeding through audio cassettes and video cassettes of performances for my current really big project. I will be one of two producers putting this material onto CDs and DVDs to sell wherever we can. I will be one of the editors involved That's a new hat for me. I have sat behind or beside an editor, relying on his or her technical skills and experience to put together videos for me but this time I will be doing the technical work as well. I'm excited, of course, as learning anything new usually is a high for me. I will be frustrated that I will not get it all on the first try because I have this ridiculous notion I should always get it right the first time. I don't expect anyone else to accomplish this but I expect it of myself. Odd.
The world of technology has assisted me a great deal in the never ending request to be organized and more productive. I have borrowed lap tops in lieu of having one of my very own and this past weekend borrowed a laptop on which I sketched out not only several CDs, DVDs, liner notes and marketing strategies but worked on my novel. I don't know why having a laptop inspires me so in this way but it does. Being able to easily move from one place to another with it is a big plus, I know. I really need to get one but I want to pay cash when I do get it. I will never ever get into debt again as I did when I was in my twenties and early thirties.
I purchased a refurbished, discontinued Samsung Pocket PC/Smart phone gizmo from a seller on ebay. I have done business with this seller before and have gotten excellent results. I was able to get my old Verizon wireless number transferred onto this gadget without any hassle. The original price tag for this baby was $800 back in 2003. The whole Pocket PC concept was rather new and the technology costly. The price tag has come down considerably but even so, this thing cost me just $130.00 and has already proven itself to be a friend to ADHD sufferers like myself. The programs to make notes (actually write them on a screen), keep contacts and other information handy and interactive kept me on top of things last week for the first time in a long time. Right now, my next main housekeeping project is to clear out the clutter I have accumulated to the point where I can't even move anymore. People come look for lost relatives in my room. Sometimes, they have fallen in between the piles and need assistance getting up. It's gotten that ugly, yessir!
Back to the more creative things - I start practicing audio mixing and other neat stuff this week. Next week on January 2nd, I am interviewing for an adjunct instructor position at another college, this time teaching composition and oral communications. I'm pretty excited about it and hope that it all comes to pass for me. I want to teach and write on a full-time basis.
My Loved One (whom I have mentioned in the past here) is suffering from severe panic attacks to the point where he has to get up and leave the restaurant if we are out dining. It's upsetting for him, distressing to the point of tears, and there isn't anything I can do. He's been told about breathing exercises to latch onto when the attack comes but there is so much fear and embarrassment surrounding these moments the last thing Loved One thinks of is an exercise for breathing and relaxation. He's not drinking at least. These dreadful panic attacks have been withstood without resorting back to the bottle. I admire him a lot for that because this is a dreadful thing to endure. My father suffered from these attacks too in a far less physical way; it manifested itself by his reluctance to go out - to leave the house, sometimes not even leaving the living room where he would literally live day in and day out in the latter years of his life. I can understand more of my father's afflictions now, the affliction that prevented this very talented man from exploring life the way he really wanted to. He could have been a music teacher and was told by several choir masters he could make money with his voice. The fear of failure was an obstacle for him and he never came close to overcoming it. I remember the last months of his life Dad said he had messed things up and not accomplished what he wanted. The anxiety he had all of his life was nothing less than a rope around his neck. I see it in the Loved One now too. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep over it, recognizing the pain that even when manifested, no one can really understand the depth and blackness of it. But I can't do anything about but pray and try to assist if I am every asked.
I push hard to find ways to overcome the bad habits that have gotten in my way because I do not ever want to find myself in the last stages of my life sorry that I did not pursue this and that. What could be more horrible than that? Not much as far as I am concerned. This is what drives me to push and push, try again, try something new and move along the best way I can. I still struggle to find the most productive ways to live my life though saddled with missing electronic thingees that make my brain work like everyone else's. The alternative to not doing this is simply not acceptable to me.