If we built an armor for our tender bodies, would we love each other, would we stop to feel...?
Wheeee, I am done being a grown-up until I have to go back to the clinic on Monday. Thank fuck. I am so tired and I just need to... not have to deal with people for a while.
Today I went to a meeting to apply for Medicaid, so I might have insurance soon. And, though the doctor from earlier this week may have been total fail in other respects, the beta blockers he put me on are made of magic and miracles. I can stand up and walk around and stay on my feet for extended periods of time and not feel like I am about to pass out and not have my heart freak out at me. I feel better physically than I think I have in years now and I cannot express how happy I am about this.
In other news, I am not totally failing at
inkingitout so far. In fact, I am about a thousand words ahead of schedule - which, okay, is totally because I set myself a ridiculously low goal for a year, but never mind that. Writing is happening!
I am trying to ignore the part of my brain insisting that it is not the right writing because it's not the novel. I decided I'd give myself January to just screw around and get back in the habit of writing anything at all, which I am doing and enjoying (with
origfic_bingo!), but aslkdjf I SHOULD BE WORKING ON SOMETHING PUBLISHABLE AND 500+ WORDS A DAY IS NOT ENOUGH AND GOD I'M SO LAZY AND-
...yeah, nothing I do will ever be enough for me. I'm aware of that. Knowing this is insane does not stop me from thinking it.
Today I went to a meeting to apply for Medicaid, so I might have insurance soon. And, though the doctor from earlier this week may have been total fail in other respects, the beta blockers he put me on are made of magic and miracles. I can stand up and walk around and stay on my feet for extended periods of time and not feel like I am about to pass out and not have my heart freak out at me. I feel better physically than I think I have in years now and I cannot express how happy I am about this.
In other news, I am not totally failing at
inkingitout so far. In fact, I am about a thousand words ahead of schedule - which, okay, is totally because I set myself a ridiculously low goal for a year, but never mind that. Writing is happening!
I am trying to ignore the part of my brain insisting that it is not the right writing because it's not the novel. I decided I'd give myself January to just screw around and get back in the habit of writing anything at all, which I am doing and enjoying (with
origfic_bingo!), but aslkdjf I SHOULD BE WORKING ON SOMETHING PUBLISHABLE AND 500+ WORDS A DAY IS NOT ENOUGH AND GOD I'M SO LAZY AND-
...yeah, nothing I do will ever be enough for me. I'm aware of that. Knowing this is insane does not stop me from thinking it.