day 13
- I woke up with an idea for 80% of a novel plotted out in a dream. I wrote it down and saved it in my file with all the other dream-inspired books that have come to me.
It happens a few times a year. If writing them was as easy as dreaming them up, I'd be a millionaire.
- The Tuesday night poetry reading was canceled for the second week in a row due to lack of attendance. Lame, lame. Still, there have been enough stragglers to make for conversation, so we've been hanging out on the curb outside just talking about random things. It's very relaxing, after a long day of mommy-ing and bookkeeper-ing to just... lay down on the concrete, look at the stars, and listen to artsy people being goofy. It's a form of time-travel, I daresay.
The fact that my ex is one of the poetry stragglers makes the time-travel effect all the more realistic. We've been purposefully out of contact for so long, it is positively surreal to be able to look up (up, up) from my concrete nap to see him standing there, telling me about his day like all is right with the world.
Maybe all *is* right with the world.
- I am not all right, though. Somehow I pulled a muscle* in my back right about the time that I stopped taking painkillers - at least, the God-King diagnosed it as such because of the hot spot on my back, where it hurts. I hope that's all it is, and not a new injury to my discs. Cuz that would be bad. But either way, it's a band of pain in my lower back that won't go away. It just varies in how bad it is and how stiff I am in consequence.
At any rate, chronic pain makes it very very hard to maintain one's decision not to take pain-killers. I think I've made this point once or twice (har), about the migraines - which, by the way, are still happening daily.
So I have to keep reminding myself why I'm doing this. It's not just to prove that I have real pain that warrants relief. Sometimes you start to question, when you've taken painkillers long enough - like maybe you made it up. Hah.
But I need to be clean for other reasons. I need to be clean when I talk to my doctors again, so that isn't a factor in their evaluation of my health. I need to be clean so I can prove to myself that I can be. I need to be clean so I can make a level-headed decision about the long-term management of my pain. I need to be clean so I can explore the parts of me that have been numbed along with the pain.
But damn it. This hurts.
Thirteen days.
- Writing has been stalled for a week or so. Not a block, exactly, but the ideas and the flow of words were at just a trickle. I have some ideas, though. Some were providential, some were thanks to my favorite pocket Rachel and her pocket Mom. Hopefully I'll make some progress at the coffee shop today (or, as the Kinglet calls it, my "coffee office").
- Still need to catch up on your writings.
It happens a few times a year. If writing them was as easy as dreaming them up, I'd be a millionaire.
- The Tuesday night poetry reading was canceled for the second week in a row due to lack of attendance. Lame, lame. Still, there have been enough stragglers to make for conversation, so we've been hanging out on the curb outside just talking about random things. It's very relaxing, after a long day of mommy-ing and bookkeeper-ing to just... lay down on the concrete, look at the stars, and listen to artsy people being goofy. It's a form of time-travel, I daresay.
The fact that my ex is one of the poetry stragglers makes the time-travel effect all the more realistic. We've been purposefully out of contact for so long, it is positively surreal to be able to look up (up, up) from my concrete nap to see him standing there, telling me about his day like all is right with the world.
Maybe all *is* right with the world.
- I am not all right, though. Somehow I pulled a muscle* in my back right about the time that I stopped taking painkillers - at least, the God-King diagnosed it as such because of the hot spot on my back, where it hurts. I hope that's all it is, and not a new injury to my discs. Cuz that would be bad. But either way, it's a band of pain in my lower back that won't go away. It just varies in how bad it is and how stiff I am in consequence.
At any rate, chronic pain makes it very very hard to maintain one's decision not to take pain-killers. I think I've made this point once or twice (har), about the migraines - which, by the way, are still happening daily.
So I have to keep reminding myself why I'm doing this. It's not just to prove that I have real pain that warrants relief. Sometimes you start to question, when you've taken painkillers long enough - like maybe you made it up. Hah.
But I need to be clean for other reasons. I need to be clean when I talk to my doctors again, so that isn't a factor in their evaluation of my health. I need to be clean so I can prove to myself that I can be. I need to be clean so I can make a level-headed decision about the long-term management of my pain. I need to be clean so I can explore the parts of me that have been numbed along with the pain.
But damn it. This hurts.
Thirteen days.
- Writing has been stalled for a week or so. Not a block, exactly, but the ideas and the flow of words were at just a trickle. I have some ideas, though. Some were providential, some were thanks to my favorite pocket Rachel and her pocket Mom. Hopefully I'll make some progress at the coffee shop today (or, as the Kinglet calls it, my "coffee office").
- Still need to catch up on your writings.