We all get behind now and again. Sometimes, we get really behind. Sometimes, we need help in getting caught up. And then sometimes, but just a few times, not many times at all, we get horrendously behind and it takes months and months to get caught up.
For those of us who own studios, we're relatively accustomed to the rise and fall of Rome, our Rome, but sometimes, extraordinary circumstances occur that put us into a tailspin of potentially fatal magnitude. Dear readers, I've just pulled out of one such dive. And only barely.
I've been horrendously behind and I have my Mother to blame for it all.
She's dead so there's little satisfaction in blaming her but still, it's clearly her fault. And, smart as can be til the end, she suspected she was causing me trouble as she was dying; from August thru October of last year, I kept jetting off to North Carolina, leaving behind the studio, Heidi, clients, an untended pipeline of road work and everything else that goes into living a full and exciting life.
I assured Mom that there was absolutely no problem, no problem at all, in leaving my small business in order to be with her.
I assured her there was absolutely no problem, no problem at all, in focusing on the her needs and my own as they pertained to her. We were both enjoying as best we could under such circumstances spending the rest of her life together and she, against all odds, squeezed in a few last lessons, schooling me on a life well-lived until her very last days. She fought like a warrior, held firm like the Brit she (at least partially) was and cared more about me and my responsibilities than she did about her own condition, her increasing pain and the fact that she quite likely wouldn't live long enough to see her beloved Tampa Bay Rays make it all the way to the World Series.
My Mom was Baseball Betty, the Rays #1 fan and she died October 28th. So close but not close enough.
Her big funeral, not to be confused by her two small funerals, was December 20th in my hometown of St. Petersburg and it was a great time, a really beautiful time. It helped me feel like she was actually dead because, I must say, living on opposite coasts, it's a little too easy to think a loved one is still around when they're not. But the funeral, the big one, helped move me a little closer to believing that she's gone.
I doubt the two little funerals,one this July and the other in August, will help with that finalization because I can report, with certainty and clarity, that I now realize my Mom is dead because I have finally, with certainty and clarity, finished slogging through the tons of work, the masses of work, the piles and piles - some ankle deep! - of work that accumulated from August until, well, about 3 weeks ago.
It was about 3 weeks ago when the dust settled from my February 1st move, when the dust settled from a February workshop in the Seattle studio, and when the dust settled on some longstanding computer issues in the studio that I began organizing, slating, prioritizing, strategizing, tranquilizing and philosophizing my way out of this mess.
I kept telling Heidi, "I just have to work smarter, I just have to be more effective, more efficient, I have to sleep less, I have to do more, I just have to."
I'm embarrassed to say that things were so out of control that I welcomed visiting teachers in mid-February into my brand new home without having run the vacuum.
I'm embarrassed to say that my stress level was so out of control that I became less effective, less efficient, I slept more and I did less overall.
My mantra was "push on through, push on through, push on through." And I did but man, the toll it took.
I've felt like I've been in a time warp. How can it be late March?
Here's how: In the past couple of weeks, I've balanced 20 checking account statements, I've finalized inventory reports for annual tax returns, I've ordered stock for the tons of balls, books and props we were completely out of, I've designed 2 more t-shirts (including the newest in our pelvic floor series - not to be missed!), registered a whole slew of folks for 3 different upcoming workshops, finalized the contract with the medical school for the cadaver anatomy class in April, met with my CPA, gotten my windshield replaced, gotten my door mirror replaced after I bashed it on the side wall backing into the garage (I blame Justin since I was bumping "Sexy Back" at the time of the incident - now I turn off the stereo when I pull into the alley - I do learn, but not easily), I've been to my eye doctor twice with another appointment tomorrow, I've had over 23 hours of PT done on my right hip which I've successfully returned to it's upright and locked position, and I've overeaten, had too much to drink, not exercised enough and my Roll Up sucks.
On Wednesday, I leave for York to teach for almost a week, 2 full days of workshops, some master classes and some guest teaching and I leave behind tended books, a full retail section, a happy and content Heidi, a studio full of wonderful clients who only vaguely remember who I am and a freshly vacuumed rug.
I don't recall ever being this excited about teaching.
Life is good. Again.
But Mom's still dead.
I know what to do about everything else except that thing about Mom.