Contemplate Your Navel

The show I have been working on like a crazy person since January closed over the weekend, and today was my first day back at work without getting innundated with emails regarding said show. Therefore, I spent a large portion of my day thinking about my bellybutton.

You see, it kinda hurts. I pulled up my shirt to check it out. A tad red, nothing too alarming. Sore. I poked at it. That hurt. I poked some more. It still hurt, and it was still red.

I got it pierced during spring break my Freshman year in college which was about... 7 years ago. I have never taken it out. I have never taken it out because I am terrified of penetration. Or at least penetration in the form of small, metallic object. But it's cute and never gave me trouble until that one day when I was on Venice Beach in California enjoying all things Venice Beach has to offer, looked down and realized one of the balls that keeps it together had fallen out. I wandered into one of the piercing/bong-selling stores, lifted my shirt and said, "I need something that fits, there."

Today, at work, it was me and my bellybutton. Then it was me, my bellybutton and myspace, and finally me, my bellybutton and an article entitled "Too Busy to Notice You're Too Busy" in the New York Times about how people these days seem to make themselves so busy they start to go insane. They particularly busy themselves with things that most often are insignificant annoyances.

I got really sad. What if I have to take out my bellybutton ring? See, I really love it. Other people love it too. My grandfather, he hates it. I'm planning to be at the beach for a week this summer and the bellybutton ring looks really cute and sexy with a bikini. For the last 7 years I've told myself it was staying in until I got pregnant, which is when I will probably start eating chicken again too, but when am I ever going to get pregnant and be in a position wherein I will have to give up:
1. my bellybutton ring
2. my dietary and ethical choices
3. my life
?!

Then I thought, maybe the New York Times is onto something. And I remembered: This is why I hate theatre. Because I love it so much, and work so hard, and when it stops I go insane.

This is why I try to maintain a balance in my life, I remembered. So I thought of my tickets to 8 Mets games. I remembered that it's 6 days until the Sopranos starts again. I made dinner plans with a friend. I went to the gym and watched Jeopardy. I came home, put some sort of ointment on my bellybutton, watched television and came to the conclusion that when you're left with a little time to breathe, maybe contemplating your navel isn't exactly the most relaxing thing to do.