Tuesday, October 28, 2003

Speaking of 180 degrees

It's amazing how a single phone call can change your mood, veer your thoughts off course, change the day's soundtrack from barely-alert-but-peppy to mellow-and-pensive, reflective even.

Yesterday I finished recording the last bits of my vocals for the CD. Finally, on the last day of recording, the "studio" no longer intimidated me. Finally, I stepped up to the ownership of my own words and melodies. They no longer ran me, I sat back and steered them as if I was sipping a long, smooth shiraz-cabernet on a mild Autumn night. My voice shone in rare form-- or at least finally got over that scratchy-cold and sounded more like "me." So much so that we took a few more takes of songs we'd already recorded.

The afternoon sun bathed the horizon in warmth. By 5 o'clock I decided to take a "quick" 3 mile run before step aerobics. I ran faster than I have in months. At last, the autumn has swept aside the heavy, humid veil of summer air, alleviating undo pressure on my asthmatic lungs.

Then I studied for awhile and finished the night off with a viewing of The Life of David Gale which made my mind rock and reel while I drifted off to sleep.

This morning came with a brisk bite and cold slap in the face. This morning came with a phone call. The voice on the other end sobbed almost incoherently. Yet, stumbled through the words enough for me to know that my mom had to put our 13-year-old dog to sleep yesterday due to an excruciating tumor. Farewell to the best dog in the whole world.