(no subject)
Being outside for most of the daylight hours of today has helped, as predicted, in spite of Jess being weirdly argumentative (all our conversations go:
ME: A remark
SHE: Immediate contradiction
ME: No what I meant was --
SHE: [either reiteration of how I'm desperately wrong or "I was agreeing with you" even though that was blatantly not what was happening]
Unless they are me regurgitating her opinions about something I don't know anything about and which I know she likes. This is one-way traffic.)
We went to a nice cafe; I met some fluffy dogs and had a potato scone and slowly managed to edit today's chapter; I also drew in Jess's sketchbook:
Which is less stressful than drawing in my own sketchbook because a) she always carries an enormous quantity of pens and b) it's not my book I'm fucking up with my terrible art, and I'm under no obligation to get it right.
Then I went to the library by myself, shat out another scene for the short story thing, and came home (absolutely fucking freezing).
Brain has taken, despite my best attempts to distract it, to using pretty much any window of opportunity to explain to me how I'm failing at life, how everything will go wrong (today: THE POST OFFICE WILL BE CLOSED AND THEY'LL SEND YOUR PACKAGE BACK AND THEN YOU'LL BE BLAMED FOR WASTING YOUR OWN MONEY), and how absolutely no one gives even the smallest shit about this (just because the people I live with are thoroughly sick of me doesn't mean people who haven't seen me in 3 years are, Jesus Christ). Windows of opportunity include "when I am doing difficult exercises and cannot do anything else at the same time", "while I am walking", and "literally waking me up in the middle of the night and keeping me awake for upwards of two hours for the sole purpose of ensuring that I am miserable, stressed out and sleep-deprived". So that's fun. There's really nothing which is very perspective-getting or comforting at 3.30am when you want to be asleep and ought to be asleep and the person you share a bed with yells at you every time you make any kind of movement or connection to them.
ME: A remark
SHE: Immediate contradiction
ME: No what I meant was --
SHE: [either reiteration of how I'm desperately wrong or "I was agreeing with you" even though that was blatantly not what was happening]
Unless they are me regurgitating her opinions about something I don't know anything about and which I know she likes. This is one-way traffic.)
We went to a nice cafe; I met some fluffy dogs and had a potato scone and slowly managed to edit today's chapter; I also drew in Jess's sketchbook:
Which is less stressful than drawing in my own sketchbook because a) she always carries an enormous quantity of pens and b) it's not my book I'm fucking up with my terrible art, and I'm under no obligation to get it right.
Then I went to the library by myself, shat out another scene for the short story thing, and came home (absolutely fucking freezing).
Brain has taken, despite my best attempts to distract it, to using pretty much any window of opportunity to explain to me how I'm failing at life, how everything will go wrong (today: THE POST OFFICE WILL BE CLOSED AND THEY'LL SEND YOUR PACKAGE BACK AND THEN YOU'LL BE BLAMED FOR WASTING YOUR OWN MONEY), and how absolutely no one gives even the smallest shit about this (just because the people I live with are thoroughly sick of me doesn't mean people who haven't seen me in 3 years are, Jesus Christ). Windows of opportunity include "when I am doing difficult exercises and cannot do anything else at the same time", "while I am walking", and "literally waking me up in the middle of the night and keeping me awake for upwards of two hours for the sole purpose of ensuring that I am miserable, stressed out and sleep-deprived". So that's fun. There's really nothing which is very perspective-getting or comforting at 3.30am when you want to be asleep and ought to be asleep and the person you share a bed with yells at you every time you make any kind of movement or connection to them.