I got sick. Apparently part of the reason I was having issues actually finishing writing was because my body was working it’s way up to freaking out and crashing. A day and a half of a 103 degree fever and I’m feeling a bit better, although I still feel relatively miserable. Anyway, this is some of what I’ve managed to accomplish. I’ll post the rest of it tomorrow, or part two. I have a feeling it’s going to wind up being longer than two parts.
Author: Minutiae Minuet
It’s taking me longer to do finish what I started.
I feel like how I used to when I would set out to make something as a kid and had a class project. I would watch everyone else set everything up and just do it, no questions asked.
I would overthink, plot out what I wanted to make, make it, and then feel bad that it didn’t look the way I thought it should in my head. I would imagine that the garbage everyone else made came out exactly as they wanted it, no mistakes.
I’m the only person capable of making mistakes.
At least that’s what I used to think. Well, maybe ‘used to’ is no longer the correct turn of phrase.
I think this is mainly the problem I’m experiencing now.
I am writing. Really writing.
I don’t know if it’s going to be trash. I want to trash it. But I won’t.
This is partially because I’ve already started sending people bits and pieces of the first draft, and partially because I feel really good about what I’m writing.
Okay, I lied. It’s only because the people that I sent the drafts to have saved it and are holding them ransom. If I delete what I’ve written they will post the crappy drafts that I’ve written and everyone will laugh at what a trash person I am.
Then again, they probably will when I post it anyway.
I am such a positive person.
I think that one of my next door neighbors may be a secret Nazi.
Maybe not so secret. Is it a secret if you have an Iron Eagle sticker on your mailbox?
I don’t know.
My overactive imagination has been running wild the past few weeks about this. I run possible options in my head while I walk past their door when I come home from work every day.
On the one hand they aren’t hurting anyone. On the other hand secret Nazi.
I didn’t mean to backslide. I had a plan. I had focus. I had ideas and thoughts that needed to be said.
I also had anxiety. I had worry and panic.
I feel awkward writing in front of my husband. I feel like any moment, regardless of how supportive he has been of me that something will change and he will start laughing. I will be a joke, and my hobby will be stupid. I will have written badly and he will think that I am foolish for doing more than just my ‘real’ job.
I think that’s just my brain talking, thinking, whatever.
Today feels like walking out into a swamp, and rubbing myself in the water. Potentially on a crocodile. Alligator? Alligator. They’re fresh water. I finally feel like I understand 1/10th of what it would be like to experience “The Midnight Sun” [That’s an episode of the Twilight Zone. I watch too much Twilight Zone].
The weather has been this wonky since yesterday, and I feel like my brain and body are both trying to push through a thick fog of heat and humidity. I would rather it rain and get over with instead of stay miserable and gross.
This isn’t going to be terribly long.
In any case, during my aggravatingly distracted drive home, I started to plot out an idea for a movie I’d like to see at some point in my life. One that will never get made, because Hollywood doesn’t like ideas that aren’t guaranteed to get them money.
Yesterday I felt like everything was simultaneously going wrong and right at the same time.
Then I went to work.
I guess I should start from the beginning. I hate when things are different. I love schedules. I love doing the same thing over and over again.
I’m not saying I dislike going on vacation or anything like that, I mean, who could possibly hate going away somewhere and having other people take care of you? An alien maybe. I mean, not having to worry about cleaning up the kitchen or replacing the sheets on the bed? Not having to go to work? Amazing. I could do that forever.
In the real world though, the day to day, I really can’t deal with things changing. Particularly big things. Things that my brain considers to be kind of a big deal.
I had to work at night.
Saying that you’re going to do something is often completely the opposite of actually doing it.
I think I feel good that I’ve mostly kept up with writing down things that I think about, although I do miss a few days here and there. I feel a bit less like my life is falling apart when I do, although I still feel kinda like the floor is crumbling underneath me when I’m out at work, or doing anything uncomfortable, but, baby steps.
My husband actually streamed again yesterday, and he had a lot of fun. I think he finally realized that part of being happy is just saying the hell with it and doing what you want to do instead of thinking about doing it.
My husband bought smart lights on Saturday, when we were out to see a movie with some of our friends. We went to the store, my husband and our friend Justin got hooked into talking to the man who sells the lights, and the next thing I know they’re buying a box of smart lights and a rechargeable nightlight. Apparently, [the excuse I was given is that] Amazon has some sale, and you can get the smart lights for cheap or something, but I digress.
We got home and he set up said lights, and after our friend had gone home and it was far to late to be doing anything intensive or particularly smart, we spent far too many hours playing with our Echo and the lights.
Because it’s like having a dimmer switch that you can talk to, and they have better voltage and are apparently less expensive than normal light bulbs somehow [that’s probably
propaganda marketing] .
Also I learned a lot about our Echo.
Have you ever had one of those nights where dreamed you were going through the motions of the day, and then woke up and had to do it all over again?
I had to live through a nightmare of a full shift, climbing into bed, and then boom, the alarm goes off and I realize it was all fake. Just my brain making me do more work.
On a more positive note, some pretty cool stuff happened yesterday!
My husband wants to get back into streaming again. He says that me actually sticking to a schedule (haha, jokes on him) and actually writing ( about something anything at all) is making him feel motivated to stick with something he has wanted to do.
I am going to take all the credit for his desire to do this. I feel like preening for a bit.