Distracted
I've been neglecting my journal for a long time. I shouldn't. It's a good thing.
I have been so excited by life, by everyone, by everything. So excited that I have become distracted.
I was told a long time ago that I was an engaging storyteller. That was before my stories were really all that exciting. Now, I have ridiculous stories aplenty. They've gotten so insane that when I run into someone I haven't seen in awhile (i.e., more than a couple of weeks) I often have so much I could tell them it's hard to know where to begin. I try to be aware of not alienating people. I noticed 1 or 2 times... I mean, people always get very engrossed in my recent stories, because they are good stories... but I have noticed that, yes, of course I'm dominating the conversation, and after I've done that for hours to tell them, oh, 20% of the exciting goings on in my life as of late, and need to pause for water or whatnot and turn the conversation to the others... well sometimes they just stare at me blankly. "Well, um, yeah... I don't really have anything exciting to talk about."
Y'know... I'm happy for people, if this is what they want out of life. I think some people lived chaotic early lives. Some people crave stability. Some just want predictability and calm. It's cool if it makes them happy. Those, however, who give me that look of... "why do you get to do all this stuff and I don't?" Well, I feel sad for them. Sad because, well, fuck...
A guy I know sent me a message the other day. He asked if I still lived on the west side. I said that I lived downtown. He asked if I went out a lot downtown. I said, of course, almost too much.... the only real problem or complaint I had was that I had too much going on and couldn't be in more than one place at one time. He responded that he wished he could go out more but when he got home from work he was just way too mentally exhausted to do anything.
I don't remember feeling that way since I was working full time and going to school full time and was really depressed and got migraines all the time. And then, anyone who read my journal knows about my health and probably that I almost died. Of course I didn't go out much during that time, though surprisingly still probably more than I did when I was stressed / depressed. Well... now that they found a treatment for my joints, and my health is getting better.... wow... what a world of difference. I just cannot imagine feeling that way. I can't imagine letting something as petty as work getting to me like that. I can't imagine... I dunno... I can't imagine ever feeling compelled to do something I didn't love doing to begin with. Why? How could I ever let myself be that unhappy? That stressed? What would it even take at this point? Every moment seems worth being savored. It's hard for me to do things I don't like; and it's hard for me to dislike the things I do.
So back from the tangents... I tell all these stories... these giddy, happy, crazy, wild, tangential, fucked up, wacky, liberating, hilarious, tragic, outrageous stories. People make faces. The cringe, they laugh, they gasp, they smile, they tear up. I get all this engagement. And now I've had all these people tell me, "You should write a book!" And the thing is... I keep thinking about it. But now I'm not just thinking about one book.... I'm thinking about several. Is that crazy? Do I care?
The problem is... I still need to finish my prelim and dissertation. Writing a book is no small task. Well, neither is writing these other things. I can't focus though. I keep thinking about these books. One of them I keep thinking about and it excites me. The idea of writing it excites me so much. I already pretty much know how it will begin, end, the characters (real people), format, outline. I wonder if I'll be able to concentrate on school if I don't write it. I wonder if it's even possible for me to not write it at this juncture. I wonder if I could write pieces or outlines here and there. I've never been good at multi-tasking. I always do large chunks, one big project then another. But a book? That's really big. Not sure how to do this... or not... in chunks.
I have been so excited by life, by everyone, by everything. So excited that I have become distracted.
I was told a long time ago that I was an engaging storyteller. That was before my stories were really all that exciting. Now, I have ridiculous stories aplenty. They've gotten so insane that when I run into someone I haven't seen in awhile (i.e., more than a couple of weeks) I often have so much I could tell them it's hard to know where to begin. I try to be aware of not alienating people. I noticed 1 or 2 times... I mean, people always get very engrossed in my recent stories, because they are good stories... but I have noticed that, yes, of course I'm dominating the conversation, and after I've done that for hours to tell them, oh, 20% of the exciting goings on in my life as of late, and need to pause for water or whatnot and turn the conversation to the others... well sometimes they just stare at me blankly. "Well, um, yeah... I don't really have anything exciting to talk about."
Y'know... I'm happy for people, if this is what they want out of life. I think some people lived chaotic early lives. Some people crave stability. Some just want predictability and calm. It's cool if it makes them happy. Those, however, who give me that look of... "why do you get to do all this stuff and I don't?" Well, I feel sad for them. Sad because, well, fuck...
A guy I know sent me a message the other day. He asked if I still lived on the west side. I said that I lived downtown. He asked if I went out a lot downtown. I said, of course, almost too much.... the only real problem or complaint I had was that I had too much going on and couldn't be in more than one place at one time. He responded that he wished he could go out more but when he got home from work he was just way too mentally exhausted to do anything.
I don't remember feeling that way since I was working full time and going to school full time and was really depressed and got migraines all the time. And then, anyone who read my journal knows about my health and probably that I almost died. Of course I didn't go out much during that time, though surprisingly still probably more than I did when I was stressed / depressed. Well... now that they found a treatment for my joints, and my health is getting better.... wow... what a world of difference. I just cannot imagine feeling that way. I can't imagine letting something as petty as work getting to me like that. I can't imagine... I dunno... I can't imagine ever feeling compelled to do something I didn't love doing to begin with. Why? How could I ever let myself be that unhappy? That stressed? What would it even take at this point? Every moment seems worth being savored. It's hard for me to do things I don't like; and it's hard for me to dislike the things I do.
So back from the tangents... I tell all these stories... these giddy, happy, crazy, wild, tangential, fucked up, wacky, liberating, hilarious, tragic, outrageous stories. People make faces. The cringe, they laugh, they gasp, they smile, they tear up. I get all this engagement. And now I've had all these people tell me, "You should write a book!" And the thing is... I keep thinking about it. But now I'm not just thinking about one book.... I'm thinking about several. Is that crazy? Do I care?
The problem is... I still need to finish my prelim and dissertation. Writing a book is no small task. Well, neither is writing these other things. I can't focus though. I keep thinking about these books. One of them I keep thinking about and it excites me. The idea of writing it excites me so much. I already pretty much know how it will begin, end, the characters (real people), format, outline. I wonder if I'll be able to concentrate on school if I don't write it. I wonder if it's even possible for me to not write it at this juncture. I wonder if I could write pieces or outlines here and there. I've never been good at multi-tasking. I always do large chunks, one big project then another. But a book? That's really big. Not sure how to do this... or not... in chunks.