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Wednes and the Crippling Fear of Success:
Jan. 19th, 2010 06:52 pmLooking over my last few Lj entries, several of them have been responses to the Writer's Block suggested topics. Obviously, these topics are designed to get your thinker going so you can post something interesting for a change. So yeah, if one strikes me I'll go ahead and comment, as I've been doing lately.
Problem is, I shouldn't have so much difficulty finding things to post about. If you've ever had a friend who was homebound, or jobless, or in the hospital...all they talk about is stuff they've seen on TV or the Internets. Kinda like how people with their first kid talk about nothing but the kid for like, a year or more until someone reminds them that THEY are the one we're interested in. Walking, smiling, making a noise, moving bowels, or eating oatmeal is just not that interesting to me no matter how cute the kid is who does it. Point being, I don't ever want to be one of those people who runs completely out of life experiences to talk about--who then ends up talking about media, other people, and whatever else just to avoid admitting that they aren't doing a goddamn thing with their lives. It scares the ever loving shit out of me, to be frank. If the most interesting thing I've done in a week is watch a funny TV show, I'm making a mockery of what life is supposed to be.
So when I realize that it's nearing the end of January and I don't even have a press packet done for my new book--I hate it. I've done precious little work on my new zombie novel--though I'm sort of waiting for The Crazies to drop so I can avoid anything they're doing. I actually have opportunties to get my work in people's faces, at least locally, and I'm slagging off. I'm feeling far too depressed to hype myself, to tell people how valuable and worthwhile my work is, or that I have a big, splashy event coming up. I can't let depression (or mania, for that matter) keep me from doing what I need to do in order to have the life I want to have. I wish I could go back to the docs, but I can't even afford to see my regular doc, much less a new psyche doc. I couldn't even afford to get my hair cut and had to do it myself (a friend cut the back and it's not glaringly uneven).
So if you see me online slagging off, playing Facebook games, or Xbox, or watching more than 1 movie a day, or taking afternoon naps, don't be afraid to tell me to get my ass back to work. Tell me that I'm awesome and if I miss an opportunity to tell the world I'm awesome, I'll regret it forever. Some day, I'll have enough money to buy H and I a house. And if I'm the one who pays for it, he'll have to let me bring Pentelope. Yeah!
In other news, I have a Tres Leches Cake soaking in the fridge right now. It's my first one ever, and I'm hoping that it's delicious. Seems like anything soaked in sweetened condensed milk will be yummy, but I've had some collossal baking missteps in my day, so we shall see.
Problem is, I shouldn't have so much difficulty finding things to post about. If you've ever had a friend who was homebound, or jobless, or in the hospital...all they talk about is stuff they've seen on TV or the Internets. Kinda like how people with their first kid talk about nothing but the kid for like, a year or more until someone reminds them that THEY are the one we're interested in. Walking, smiling, making a noise, moving bowels, or eating oatmeal is just not that interesting to me no matter how cute the kid is who does it. Point being, I don't ever want to be one of those people who runs completely out of life experiences to talk about--who then ends up talking about media, other people, and whatever else just to avoid admitting that they aren't doing a goddamn thing with their lives. It scares the ever loving shit out of me, to be frank. If the most interesting thing I've done in a week is watch a funny TV show, I'm making a mockery of what life is supposed to be.
So when I realize that it's nearing the end of January and I don't even have a press packet done for my new book--I hate it. I've done precious little work on my new zombie novel--though I'm sort of waiting for The Crazies to drop so I can avoid anything they're doing. I actually have opportunties to get my work in people's faces, at least locally, and I'm slagging off. I'm feeling far too depressed to hype myself, to tell people how valuable and worthwhile my work is, or that I have a big, splashy event coming up. I can't let depression (or mania, for that matter) keep me from doing what I need to do in order to have the life I want to have. I wish I could go back to the docs, but I can't even afford to see my regular doc, much less a new psyche doc. I couldn't even afford to get my hair cut and had to do it myself (a friend cut the back and it's not glaringly uneven).
So if you see me online slagging off, playing Facebook games, or Xbox, or watching more than 1 movie a day, or taking afternoon naps, don't be afraid to tell me to get my ass back to work. Tell me that I'm awesome and if I miss an opportunity to tell the world I'm awesome, I'll regret it forever. Some day, I'll have enough money to buy H and I a house. And if I'm the one who pays for it, he'll have to let me bring Pentelope. Yeah!
In other news, I have a Tres Leches Cake soaking in the fridge right now. It's my first one ever, and I'm hoping that it's delicious. Seems like anything soaked in sweetened condensed milk will be yummy, but I've had some collossal baking missteps in my day, so we shall see.
