Thursday, June 25, 2015

we buried it alive and now it's screaming in my head

Today was markedly worse than yesterday...but I suppose that's to be expected. When I'm being sane and self-forgiving, I remember that I tend to work like this - a twelve-hour rush of madly frenzied production, followed by a couple of days of less-than-stellar output. But that doesn't make the day after, when I just want to do it again but somehow can't find the rhythm, any easier to bear.

Of course, then there are the times when I do a madly frenzied rush for more than a day...but the recovery period is longer and more brutal. So I didn't try to beat my head against the wall too badly today; I got up and was at the cafe by 8:15 (where my possibly-adulterous lovebirds were making out again), and stayed there until noon, but even though I think I got some good words, my monkey mind kept luring me away from the page. So eventually I came home, ate a snack, took a nap, contemplated how I might get the words going, and instead said fuck it to the blank page and walked to Equinox, where a brutal kettlebell workout helped to clear my head. I should have seen Alyssa today, but since my car is still dead (a situation I hope to rectify, with a little help from my friends, tomorrow), I was left to my own devices instead.

But the evening got better, as things always do...I came home, showered, and had a hangout with Terry so that we could catch up between my Texas trip and her upcoming vacation. And then I spent the evening reading a book ("Uprooted") - it's magical fantasy, which is pretty much exactly what I wanted, and I saw a glowing review of it on twitter today, so I bought it and started it on impulse. I'm halfway in and it feels like this should be the climax, so I'm super super curious to see what happens in the second half.

However, I'm no longer a spring chicken, and so I shall do the sensible thing and go to bed even though my young, obsessive heart wants to keep going until it's four a.m. and my eyes are gritty and my body has burned itself out to get through the rest of the story...a feeling I used to have every week, but I'm too old for that now. Or maybe it's not that I'm too old, but I certainly like my sleep (see: the fact that I take a nap every day), and I have to get some immediately if I'm going to tell my own stories tomorrow. Goodnight!

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