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A Day for Saturn, not to be confused with a Day for Santorum.
Blessed Yom Kippur to those who celebrate.
Hope your contemplation is productive.
I am, sadly, at the day job all day until 5pm. Ordering deli food for lunch to keep myself in a happy, junk food infused mood. Working a long shift on Saturday tends to make me want to snack all day long. Not sure what's up with that.
Still behind on the book. So what else is new, right? Concentration and focus are still not happening. Drank a giant (okay, Wendy's calls it their "medium" but it's well over 3 serving sizes) coke last week. That was the only time in weeks I've felt peppy and focused--until it wore off and I had to go right to bed. Drag. REALLY don't want to get back into the trap of caffeine. I hate that shit, and do not wish to be that kind of addict ever again.
Next week is a book signing during homecoming at my alma mater. My Arch Writing Nemesis will be there. Okay, he's not really my nemesis, he's a guy I went to college with who was always destined to be a more popular and successful writer than me. He has a giant fan base, a Wikipedia entry, and has been on the NYT best seller list. Isn't that just a kick in the nuts? No, not really. Irritatingly enough, he works his ass off at it; so I can't even grumble about how some people get everything in life handed to them for the asking because he totally didn't. He's still super nice, helpful, supportive, and emphatically NOT one of those "head up his ass" types. Plus, he's in the HWA. I want to be in the HWA.
It so happens that I caught up with him in about 1997. He gave me a hard copy of a book he wrote. After reading it, I was so jealous I couldn't even see straight. Not only was it a fast paced, innovating, marketable book--but he wrote it back when I was still working shitty retail jobs, smoking bushels to kind bud, and search desperately for someone who'd want to marry me. I felt so profoundly untogether and he was already doing to great--and this was BEFORE he invented the audiobook podcast. Fucker!
My plan is to sit next to him at the signing, smile, and tell everyone who walks by that "I'm a writer too." They're giving him the prestigious alumni award. The only award they'd give me is person who flipped the bird the most times in a single yearbook. Ha!
Which is why I always say that comparing yourself to other people is the quickest road to misery. Besides, when I see him, I can totally get him to sign some copies of his books.
CPAP machine will be mine, hopefully on Weds.
It will be mine.
Oh yes, it will be mine.
Hope your contemplation is productive.
I am, sadly, at the day job all day until 5pm. Ordering deli food for lunch to keep myself in a happy, junk food infused mood. Working a long shift on Saturday tends to make me want to snack all day long. Not sure what's up with that.
Still behind on the book. So what else is new, right? Concentration and focus are still not happening. Drank a giant (okay, Wendy's calls it their "medium" but it's well over 3 serving sizes) coke last week. That was the only time in weeks I've felt peppy and focused--until it wore off and I had to go right to bed. Drag. REALLY don't want to get back into the trap of caffeine. I hate that shit, and do not wish to be that kind of addict ever again.
Next week is a book signing during homecoming at my alma mater. My Arch Writing Nemesis will be there. Okay, he's not really my nemesis, he's a guy I went to college with who was always destined to be a more popular and successful writer than me. He has a giant fan base, a Wikipedia entry, and has been on the NYT best seller list. Isn't that just a kick in the nuts? No, not really. Irritatingly enough, he works his ass off at it; so I can't even grumble about how some people get everything in life handed to them for the asking because he totally didn't. He's still super nice, helpful, supportive, and emphatically NOT one of those "head up his ass" types. Plus, he's in the HWA. I want to be in the HWA.
It so happens that I caught up with him in about 1997. He gave me a hard copy of a book he wrote. After reading it, I was so jealous I couldn't even see straight. Not only was it a fast paced, innovating, marketable book--but he wrote it back when I was still working shitty retail jobs, smoking bushels to kind bud, and search desperately for someone who'd want to marry me. I felt so profoundly untogether and he was already doing to great--and this was BEFORE he invented the audiobook podcast. Fucker!
My plan is to sit next to him at the signing, smile, and tell everyone who walks by that "I'm a writer too." They're giving him the prestigious alumni award. The only award they'd give me is person who flipped the bird the most times in a single yearbook. Ha!
Which is why I always say that comparing yourself to other people is the quickest road to misery. Besides, when I see him, I can totally get him to sign some copies of his books.
CPAP machine will be mine, hopefully on Weds.
It will be mine.
Oh yes, it will be mine.