Today was one of those quiet, somewhat sullen days - I blame the switch to daylight saving time (which I am v. excited about in the long run, since I like seeing sunlight after work, but today was a rough adjustment). I wanted to write, theoretically, but was really not in it to win it. And so I spent far too much time on Twitter and doing some online browsing of patio furniture and generally messing around, when I should have just gone outside or read a book or done literally anything else.
But I did take a shower, so I guess that was a plus. I also talked to my parents, who were in fine form. And I managed to do two loads of laundry, trim my bangs, pack up some packages to send back to online retailers, clean the kitchen, and make lunch (scrambled eggs) and dinner (slightly more impressive: chicken breasts with creamy mushroom/onion/parmesan gravy, which was surprisingly delicious).
I should have done day job stuff tonight, but instead I made some hot chocolate and ruminated in my journal, spilling several pages' worth of ink about what's bothering me and why I'm stuck with the writing. Don't get too excited, I didn't come to any seriously dramatic revelations - although I think I'm getting there. The writing will happen again - it's just that everything that I want to write requires me to dig even deeper into my psyche, my memories, my old wounds and fresh scars. In other words, writing is a total bitch sometimes, and it has been easier to avoid it for the last few months than it was to dig deep into myself while also trying to get settled into a new job/city/life. But I'm reaching the point where I'm feeling a little more settled, and the ache to write may eventually overcome my avoidant tendencies.
Tonight, though, I should probably get some sleep - goodnight!
But I did take a shower, so I guess that was a plus. I also talked to my parents, who were in fine form. And I managed to do two loads of laundry, trim my bangs, pack up some packages to send back to online retailers, clean the kitchen, and make lunch (scrambled eggs) and dinner (slightly more impressive: chicken breasts with creamy mushroom/onion/parmesan gravy, which was surprisingly delicious).
I should have done day job stuff tonight, but instead I made some hot chocolate and ruminated in my journal, spilling several pages' worth of ink about what's bothering me and why I'm stuck with the writing. Don't get too excited, I didn't come to any seriously dramatic revelations - although I think I'm getting there. The writing will happen again - it's just that everything that I want to write requires me to dig even deeper into my psyche, my memories, my old wounds and fresh scars. In other words, writing is a total bitch sometimes, and it has been easier to avoid it for the last few months than it was to dig deep into myself while also trying to get settled into a new job/city/life. But I'm reaching the point where I'm feeling a little more settled, and the ache to write may eventually overcome my avoidant tendencies.
Tonight, though, I should probably get some sleep - goodnight!
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