Year of the Snake

I'm not excited about the way I almost got ushered into the year of the snake, 2013. My last post was in August 2012 and it won't be an exaggeration to submit that the writer inside me breathed her last sometime around that time.

St. John Ambulance -Peel Branch which has graciously agreed to let me be on their rolls, if I may, announced the Grand Opening Ceremony of the new branch in July 2012, and the communications specialist- a hat that I proudly wear, was summoned to stitch her pants to the seat and get the ball rolling. That was it and the rest of the season, I cared little about the beckoning fall, the maple leaves in their wondrous hues, the warm murmurs of the wind, the sunny days and short sleeved shirts. All that I saw in broad daylight or abstract dreams was the Invite for October 4th, the program of the grand opening and the list of  - to dos'.

The event was a success. But, barely had I shaken my tired limbs for an energetic burst, that I could hear the books calling out for me. I took two courses in the fall of 2012: Foundations of Project Management, and Strategies for a web presence. Such an out pour of knowledge has two major influences on me -  cold embarrassment for the years I've lived sans knowledge, and secondly, mesmerizes me with the newly-attained knowledge. As I stayed cradling between these two extremes of my knowledge-related emotional self, it wasn't long before I finished the courses, wrote my exams and was almost ready for Christmas 2012. Of course, with chiropractic treatment and massage therapies.

What a relief after a grueling three months at work and studies, when I was greeted by a few days of laziness-inspired holidays marking the end of 2012. I woke up in the new year with a brand new spirit to put the web 2.0 learning into action but it was far too soon to spell the writing on the wall. A nerve pinched and I've since been restricted to the walls of my bedroom. The five weeks in bed broke my years of love affair with my pillow that would actually get intense every morning at 5:30, with the beeping of the alarm clock.

For sure, my brain has relaxed enough and especially with the all narcotics-laden painkillers, I've had little to think or worry about. No clients, no media calls, no press releases, no write-ups, just plain simple sleep.

The good news is that the writer in me just resuscitated.