aw pisser
The loft, I've decided, is my cockblock -- in writing terms, I mean. I can no longer get any writing done. It's taken me two hours to write a PARAGRAPH, and this is after about two months of hitting a wall in terms of muse and inspiration. I honestly think it's just that, unlike in winter when this apartment was warm and cozy, it's just now hot and stuffy and crowded. I think I need to move into the new apartment before I can start really writing again, but that's still two and a half weeks away, and I don't want to waste that time. I might TRY again to write at Frank's, but that's been insanely unsuccessful thus far . . . ughhhh. So many things need writing and I feel like I'm slamming my head against the wall.
In other news, Frank got me a GORGEOUS desk (and also a GORGEOUS tv stand/bookcase) yesterday. The desk makes me squeal with glee because it is beautiful and perfect and EXACTLY what I personally need in a desk. LOTS of space, and even an extra raised service I can put my tea and candles and flowers on. I'm so thrilled. It's very, very strange for me to rely on someone and accept help from them, but Frank's proving time and time again that he's really good at taking care of me. And I'm having a harder time disbelieving him when he tells me he likes taking care of me. I shouldn't disbelieve him. I like taking care of him, so why can't he feel the same way?
Start nanny job Monday. Me and the boys are going to the science museum. Start my marketing job within the week, once they get my business cards printed up. I really, really hope I'm successful at marketing. That could be so lucrative for me, unless I suck it up big time. Bartending class and certification in exactly two weeks.
To be honest, I don't feel like writing right now, I feel like packing. There's not really much sense in packing, I know. I don't even have enough boxes, or anyplace to put the boxes once they're packed. I'm just SO FUCKING READY to move already, and have space (my new bedroom is bigger than the size of my ENTIRE studio). The only frustrating downside is that it will be further from Frank and the nanny job, but I'm thinking it'll be worth it. I'll still take the same damn 1 bus everyday, haha.
Still feeling really sick. I don't know what's up with that. Not having nightmares anymore, and not as stressed about money anymore, but everything I eat is still making me pretty sick, and I still have a hard time not sleeping all the time. Took a 5-hour energy shot AND am on my second (caffeinated) green tea root beer, and yet still I could lay down and sleep. Once again, I'm thinking it's the heat in this apartment. I have the fan blowing on me, but it's still almost too hot to breathe.
Maybe instead of smacking my face because I can't write (at least I got a paragraph AND the next four chapters of this story in particular planned), I should go pack up my kitchen stuff.
I feel bad I haven't written all summer when SO much has happened. I will maybe regret it someday that I can't be like "look, Frank, here's the diary entry when you told me you loved me" or whatever. But .. . I just haven't felt like it, lol. My memory is better with Frank than it was withCasey though, so maybe it'll be okay.
In other news, Frank got me a GORGEOUS desk (and also a GORGEOUS tv stand/bookcase) yesterday. The desk makes me squeal with glee because it is beautiful and perfect and EXACTLY what I personally need in a desk. LOTS of space, and even an extra raised service I can put my tea and candles and flowers on. I'm so thrilled. It's very, very strange for me to rely on someone and accept help from them, but Frank's proving time and time again that he's really good at taking care of me. And I'm having a harder time disbelieving him when he tells me he likes taking care of me. I shouldn't disbelieve him. I like taking care of him, so why can't he feel the same way?
Start nanny job Monday. Me and the boys are going to the science museum. Start my marketing job within the week, once they get my business cards printed up. I really, really hope I'm successful at marketing. That could be so lucrative for me, unless I suck it up big time. Bartending class and certification in exactly two weeks.
To be honest, I don't feel like writing right now, I feel like packing. There's not really much sense in packing, I know. I don't even have enough boxes, or anyplace to put the boxes once they're packed. I'm just SO FUCKING READY to move already, and have space (my new bedroom is bigger than the size of my ENTIRE studio). The only frustrating downside is that it will be further from Frank and the nanny job, but I'm thinking it'll be worth it. I'll still take the same damn 1 bus everyday, haha.
Still feeling really sick. I don't know what's up with that. Not having nightmares anymore, and not as stressed about money anymore, but everything I eat is still making me pretty sick, and I still have a hard time not sleeping all the time. Took a 5-hour energy shot AND am on my second (caffeinated) green tea root beer, and yet still I could lay down and sleep. Once again, I'm thinking it's the heat in this apartment. I have the fan blowing on me, but it's still almost too hot to breathe.
Maybe instead of smacking my face because I can't write (at least I got a paragraph AND the next four chapters of this story in particular planned), I should go pack up my kitchen stuff.
I feel bad I haven't written all summer when SO much has happened. I will maybe regret it someday that I can't be like "look, Frank, here's the diary entry when you told me you loved me" or whatever. But .. . I just haven't felt like it, lol. My memory is better with Frank than it was withCasey though, so maybe it'll be okay.