Turning down the Hustle a few notches.

The living room of the loft
My room before I moved my stuff in
the roof of my building...

I got sick for the second time this month. Maybe it's the fact the weather went from 57 degrees to 28 degrees and now to 74 degrees had some thing to do with it, or maybe it's producing the opera, the play, the television show, and managing of an international artist while working a full time job that did it. It could also be the late club nights that I have had lately that usually involve Mark, Anica, Nyree and I dancing until 5am, taking a disco nap and going to work two hours later, or maybe...

Or maybe, I have finally over done it. Laying on my couch in the living room of the loft, Kev makes fun of me in one of his text messages, "You need to introduce a cup of orange juice in your life...maybe turn down the hustle a few notches..." I laugh, then cough, sweat, then spit into my tissue, and crawl up into a little ball saying, "why god, why." Kev always makes me laugh. Our conversations are like highways that take the shape of cloverleaves, overpaths, and off ramps, you never know where they are going to go, but it's just fun to be on the journey.

I guess one of the good things about getting sick, is that all you can do it sit there, flip through bad gossip rags, stare at the ceiling (which is not hard for me since it is only two feet away) and think.

What did I think about? Turning down the Hustle.

Those of your that have know me since highschool (Christina and Chandra) and those of you who know me from College (ladies) know that my Hustle has always been turned up to 11. Starting a non-profit while DJing at the college radio station while double majoring in Theatre and Religion, minoring in Womens studies, taking dance class, and playing in a band...what the hell was I thinking! I was worse in highschool, started a club to help the homeless, played on the basketball team, was in a play ever semester, and worked a part time job (gotta have the cash flow for the car!). I am not the only one guilty of this (Kelly). We were both ordered to throw away our day planners because we had schedual our lives down to the min. in college. Atlanta is when things got out of control: the nightclubs, the party throwing, playing in bands, touring, throwing festivals, film events...ah, I'm not complaining...those were all fabulous times.

These past few days, I have been mostly by myself thinking about all of this. Walking around Chinatown, trying to enjoy the beautiful weather inspite of the flu, and thinking about how once again, I have stepped off the path that I had cut out for myself long ago: to live a creative life. When I get sick, I get vulnerable, and yeah, a little lonely. I think of all of my girlfriends, and wished they were all beside me walking through Chinatown. I think of you all at different points.
I thought about Abernathy when I passed a wheelbarrel full of ginger root. Because she loves ginger, and if she saw that it was only 75 cents a pound (fresh and golden), she would have bought two big bags and would've still been stuffin that sh*t in her purse. I think about Ama when I walk through Little Italy and pass all of the beautiful espresso machines, because Ama, like me, will risk a panic attack for a great cup of coffee, I thought about Kelly when I sat on the roof of my loft, because it was sunny out, the breeze was blowing, and I thought, this is what Kelly must wake up to in California, lucky lady...

I didn't mean to get away from working on my own things. I really do get excited about other peoples projects, and feel in some small way, that I can help. However, it's my fault if I over do it (and if I can't say "no" to picking up a project), they rarely put the type of stress on me that I put on myself, and most of you know, that lately I only come in three flavors: lightly stressed with a nice toffee coating, f*cking stressed out with pralines, and look-out stress (which means I might start crying or yelling at any min) with macadamia nuts.

It's time to stop the madness. Matt came over yesterday to take care of me. In classic Matty fashion, he brought me a can of Split Pea soup with Bacon, and two rolls filled with pork. Now Matt and I only dated for 4 years, but I feel that he would remember that I am a vegatarian. "Fuck" he said, "I swear I didn't do this on purpose." I know you didn't Matt. He made me a hot toddy (sans meat) and we went up and sat on the roof. It was dusk, a perfect night. We watched the planes fly over head, we talked about nothing and everything. It was very Wayne's World (me being Garth to his Wayne). He said, "Maybe, you could just be like this this summer, you know Maya, you don't have to always accomplish something, achieve something...you could just be for a little while."

That had never really occured to me before. Just be in New York City? Unheard of...So I will try, just to be for a little while, and write (and kiss), and sleep, no more picking up projects....for a little while. M