Little Book of Calm

Your soundtrack can be critical. I am overjoyed that when I finally get do get done tonight and get out of this joint, I’ve got Apocalyptica to blare while I burn rubber and fly home at breakneck speeds.   Yeah, due to forces entirely beyond my control like none of the image hosts working with this outdated mass email software, I’m still here going on 6:00pm watching emails go.  I’ve tried just queuing them and letting them send while I leave the computer on but apparently, that method sends out blank emails and after today’s awkward realization that pretty much everything I do is crap?  I guess I feel I should at least take this measure and let the miserable things get sent out.

So, how are things going for you?  I never ask, and it does make me feel sometimes as if I’m dancing about in a room of two-way mirrors, like an exhibitionist who doesn’t get a lot of feedback.  I’m not asking for feedback, that’s not the point, I guess, I’m saying that you can occasionally feel like a tool if all you do is tell the world what you think of it.  I think I need a caramel.  I think I need to dive into a vat of something.  Didn’t eat much today, just a sandwich for lunch and it hasn’t lasted.  Kind of feel light-headed and my feet are freezing.  Good signs, good signs. 

Today’s just been one frustration after another.  The sort of Monday molasses that makes me feel completely absurd and out of my own depth.  Makes me crave every kind of consolation and the plan to go to the grocery store once this is done seems like it might be rather hazardous to my health.  I plan to exercise when I get home, but at the moment, just getting home will be kind of miraculous without crashing into something in a terrible low blood sugar black-out situation.   Right now, the goal is just to minimize the damage.

I want to work tonight on building and sprucing up the little chunk of a chunk of a scene that I wrote yesterday for the novel.  It’s basically just a description  of a short sequence I see in my head and if I can do something to make it grow and have little hooks that can attach into the piece at large, that would be really fantastic.  And make me feel creative and human and not someone who fucks around and does work that looks “like it’s from junior high.” (Which aside from being a really jerky thing to say, it’s also not a phrase to use when trying to sell me on your ability to work with me on fixing it, Mr. Random Fucking Local Printing Jerk.)

Sorry, sorry.  I knew this day was going to be stressful and unpleasant and I’ve let it really transform me in its likeness.   I am going to do my best to chill out, get this done and, not let it make me miserable for the rest of the night.  It’s okay!