The 4th

The household is sick, which is giving me covid era vibes. I kept the kids home from camp yesterday, and the H has for the first time since I’ve known him taken these two days off work due to illness, which means I’ve been cooking and cleaning non stop, and I kind of hate it. What’s going on with us? Not covid, as we’ve all tested multiple times for several days. Theo doesn’t seem sick at all, Bobby has a bad cough, I had what seemed to be mild congestion that’s clearing up now, and the H is a complete wreck. Who knows? 

We went to a small neighborhood fireworks show on Saturday, and may or may not venture out tonight. I heated up the pool yesterday so the kids would have something to do, and we may go back in today as well. It’s pretty loose today. As I’m sure I’ve mentioned many times, this is my least favorite holiday due to my sound issues, so I just sort of want to get past it. I had hoped we could escape to the desert for some quiet, but unfortunately it’s about 109° there. Now I know for future years that unless we get some kind of ac going, the desert is going to be a no-go for the 4th. When my sister comes next week I’d like to drive out for the day on my birthday, however, no matter how hot. We’d go at night for dinner and to briefly show her the place, retrieve the keys left by the contractor, and pick up any camping stuff we’ll need for our road trip at the end of the month. Honestly that sounds like a great birthday to me.

I’ve been in a bit of a dark place lately and am trying to climb out of it. I think the keyword here is acceptance. I’ve been very worried about money and how my event is going, to the point of not being able to think about anything else. And in the last couple of days I’ve gotten to the point of acceptance - that yes, unfortunately, things are not going to go the way I wanted this year. The writing is on the wall. I had hoped I would have the biggest year ever - that’s impossible. I then hoped I’d at least return to my pre-covid numbers - now that’s impossible, too. So, despite it being my 25th anniversary and the first year with no covid restrictions, this will be my smallest year since before I moved to Labor Day ten years ago. It’s infuriating and breaks my heart, but here we are. So any dreams I had of paying down the house or even putting aside money for savings, even a little bit, are dashed. I’ll be lucky to just break even and make it to Feb 1. I’ve had almost no one sign up since opening night, which is a first, and even though I know I’ll get some people in the next two months - maybe 100, 200 if I’m lucky?, that’s not enough for how much things cost these days. I’m currently sitting on about five refund requests, as well. But, I have to accept it. And I have to focus on putting on a great show for all the lovely people who did spend the money and make the effort to show up and feed my kids, and just keep walking forward. I stupidly thought there wouldn’t be any rebuilding to do after covid, but boy was I wrong. The fact is I may never get back to where I was in 2019, and I’m just going to have to adjust. Thankfully our desert place is all but done, and that will at least take the place of expensive vacations for the time being. There’s no big expenses looming, and I’m still on track to pay down the house by end of 2029. I’ve got a good deal at the hotel for two more years until the shit hits the fan. I’m not going anywhere and we will persevere. It does remind me a lot of surviving the big lawsuit at the beginning of the event and then once I was cleared and had the event to myself, having the worst year ever in 2001. I always likened it to being declared cancer-free and then getting hit by a bus. We’ve now survived two years of covid shut downs only to have an extremely lack luster return - last year’s numbers sucked, too - and this one big anniversary year I was counting on to help supplement the difficult years ahead didn’t even deliver. What a fucking drag. 

STILL, I’m going to try to move past the disappointment and look to the positive. I had a visually impaired person wanting to attend reach out to ask me to recruit some helpers/dance partners for her, and I put the word out, and was delighted by the number of people stepping up to help. It really restored my faith in humanity. My family is here and we’re safe and (will soon be) well, and I have things to look forward to. After two and a half years of frustration and failures, my desert place is all but done (they’re coming to paint end of week). I asked the H to get me a vintage bellows camera for my birthday so I can start tinkering around with old timey photography, something I used to love to do when I was younger and I’m excited to get back into. My friend who moved here from NY a couple of years ago has been inviting me to art house films, which is also getting me back into one of my favorite passions. Last night we saw the 1977 disaster classic “Rollercoaster” and we may go see The Untouchables in 70mm on Saturday. It’s good to get back to myself.