It doesn’t always have to be the way that it was before.
I am meant to be reviewing someone’s fanfiction. Well, it’s their life’s work, but it’s fanfiction and I am a terrible shitheel for belittling it. I just…hate it. I have so many friends who are writing, writing great things, writing for pleasure, writing because it brings them joy.
This just…deflates me.
This is me being in the state of knowing this is hard, but knowing I gotta do it anyway. Somehow yesterday I found 500 words about Grace Under Fire, so surely I can find four hundred more today even if it’s just whining. Even if it’s just all verbal lubrication to get some better, brighter thought out that has no words to it.
So: The Wheel of Fortune. A Twitter tarot reading pulled this card for me a few days ago. This is a card about whammo, blammo. What was will be no more and what was sown, invisibly, under the soil, unbeknownst to all, will become a towering tree. It’s a card of who the fuck knows! Dive in, be ready and let it happen.
“I come from a land that might have been, a land, thank God, that never was.”
Somehow I convinced myself to join and say hello in this very random MST3K-based singles group. I find it incredibly, onerously, dangerously peevish: the word singles. It attaches this premise in my mind that you’re walking around the world winking and salivating at anything that so much as turns your way with a gentle look. You’re hunting, you’re perusing, you’re priming the proverbial pump. Graceful, innocuous inquiries are what I prefer. But grace has never gotten me all that far. And who knows, I thought, who knows. Mr. Confusion and the Mystery of Misters behind him has yet to bestow my temples with so much as a single star. All birds, all callow chaps. I just need a translator. And a couple nice compliments on me being me has felt rather rewarding today. I am cheap. I am easy and if I can’t fly, I can skim along the water.
I also spoke to my mentor, gave her the lowdown and she was great, as expected and agreed to be a reference. She’s pulling herself out of the quagmire and I have to stop being afraid that just by talking to her and getting her feedback, I might accidentally slide back into all that goo. I have found talking about THIS transition, this potential, all maybes, not even started transition is just making me irritable.
I am digging out loose change to see if I have enough for dinner. I am not eating breakfast or lunch so that I have that loose change for dinner.
This is, not, really a good long-term plan. I can’t really just not think about this. Tomorrow should bring a bit of rain to the plain, but life is such that even that will not really be enough. It’s…I am beginning, after a year, to be actually…frustrated. And I am trying to pay attention to that before I peer around and see if it’s comfortable for me to feel that way for everyone else.
Yay, we did it!