(no subject)
I guess I should type a bit about my vacation (and about how my family did end up driving to the airport to pick me up, which I really appreciated). I had a good, relaxing time, overall. But then, I got sick on my way back home (after missing my first flight through no fault of my own and therefore my layover and having to take an extra flight to get back home, which gave me an 18-hour travel day rather than the expected 8) with a stupid URI (which is the second one I've had this year! And it was only November!) so I basically took a week off of working out, which was nice.
Getting back into it, though? Not so nice.
Anyway, the real reason I broke out my dream width life log is to document that...I've actually started writing again? Two days in a row, now. It's been slow going, but I have a feeling that I'm actually gonna finish this fic. It's dialogue heavy and has, so far, been a lot of fun to craft (mostly because, if I caught myself struggling with a section, I just said, screw it and didn't work too hard at making this first draft perfect--my rule for myself in this endeavor is that if I'm not enjoying myself, than I need to do something different).
BUT, the downside is that writing fiction is so different from my real job that, when I've been writing for an hour or so, my brain...hurts? Feels weird? Like...my thoughts are organized differently and I'm in this weird brain-state. It's kinda like doing a workout that's different from the routine, I guess. It's not unpleasant, exactly, just really weird.
I wonder if I'll get used to it.
I had difficulty getting to sleep last night because my brain just kept churning and wouldn't slow down. That wasn't exactly pleasant. Since I had the afternoon off, I did my writing earlier, so hopefully that won't be a problem tonight (though I am on call, so I won't be getting much rest anyway...)
I also came to the realization that if I had to choose a profession outside of medicine, I would like to be an editor or, even better--and even more of a long-shot--create, write, and direct a podcast. I have found that I love writing dialogue. It comes more easily than really anything else for me.
Also, I was bitching to my best friend today via text about one of the faculty members, and I wanted to preserve the comment I made about him because I feel it's quite artful:
The fact that [he] even has a skeletal system shocks me: he’s so figuratively slimey that I am usually surprised that his primary mode of ambulation is not slithering/sliming/oozing his way around.
I miss her so much and I with that my current long-term life plans involved me moving to her city. But, I deal with this heartbreak the same way I do my other heartbreaks--denial.
Getting back into it, though? Not so nice.
Anyway, the real reason I broke out my dream width life log is to document that...I've actually started writing again? Two days in a row, now. It's been slow going, but I have a feeling that I'm actually gonna finish this fic. It's dialogue heavy and has, so far, been a lot of fun to craft (mostly because, if I caught myself struggling with a section, I just said, screw it and didn't work too hard at making this first draft perfect--my rule for myself in this endeavor is that if I'm not enjoying myself, than I need to do something different).
BUT, the downside is that writing fiction is so different from my real job that, when I've been writing for an hour or so, my brain...hurts? Feels weird? Like...my thoughts are organized differently and I'm in this weird brain-state. It's kinda like doing a workout that's different from the routine, I guess. It's not unpleasant, exactly, just really weird.
I wonder if I'll get used to it.
I had difficulty getting to sleep last night because my brain just kept churning and wouldn't slow down. That wasn't exactly pleasant. Since I had the afternoon off, I did my writing earlier, so hopefully that won't be a problem tonight (though I am on call, so I won't be getting much rest anyway...)
I also came to the realization that if I had to choose a profession outside of medicine, I would like to be an editor or, even better--and even more of a long-shot--create, write, and direct a podcast. I have found that I love writing dialogue. It comes more easily than really anything else for me.
Also, I was bitching to my best friend today via text about one of the faculty members, and I wanted to preserve the comment I made about him because I feel it's quite artful:
The fact that [he] even has a skeletal system shocks me: he’s so figuratively slimey that I am usually surprised that his primary mode of ambulation is not slithering/sliming/oozing his way around.
I miss her so much and I with that my current long-term life plans involved me moving to her city. But, I deal with this heartbreak the same way I do my other heartbreaks--denial.