still tired
Slept through the night (more or less; was kept awake for an hour or two with strong, disturbing, violent imagery that I couldn't shake off, since I was mostly asleep. Thanks for nothin', Ambien), but still tired today; almost more so. Don't remember my dreams after I actually went to sleep.
Nice quiet night in. Rewatched Heroes premiere; enjoyed it wildly again; liveblogged it (shall I crosspost it? Or link to it? Your choice, sports fans). Ate a very small dinner (3 chicken wing segments; wasn't actually hungry for more, even though I dished up a bowl of additional food). Watched Glee; "Single Ladies" strikes again. (I really, really, really hope they do the next logical step, and perform "Hey Ya!", as "Single Ladies" is 2009's "Hey Ya!" in ubiquitousness and yet awesomeness). I do love watching boys do the "Single Ladies" choreography. "Pat... the... butt."
Wrote an actual rough-draft segment of the next work yesterday morning; I am already so in love with this book (or collection? I don't know yet) that it hurts. Total infatuation; thinking about it all the time. It's back. That feels fucking awesome. I got my writer's mind back. Hooray. I feel like I need to get over my reluctance and arrogance and take some more creative writing classes; of course I need more classes. Everyone does. It's like Jungian psychoanalysis; the analyst is the most loyal analysand. I have to strip myself of ego or I will never evolve. Jesus Christ, that's gonna hurt, though. All I am is a writer, and negative criticism hurts like fucking hell. But I'd better get some. Hell, I'd better get lots and lots and lots. And not see it as a criticism of myself, or a damnation of all my talents and hopes - only as fuel to work with; only as an indication of where to cut to save the patient. That's what the end of Paxil symbolizes - welcoming in agonizing pain, gulping in huge amounts of it, seeking out more, no longer fearing it, no longer turning away. If it hurts, it should.
Feeling mentally OK today; emotionally a bit fragile (overwhelming emotions all over the place - love, gratitude, anger, sadness, cringing fear, defiance), but also generally OK. Physically OK, except that my legs stiffen up if I don't get up and walk around every 15 minutes or more. Yep - just normal.
Nice quiet night in. Rewatched Heroes premiere; enjoyed it wildly again; liveblogged it (shall I crosspost it? Or link to it? Your choice, sports fans). Ate a very small dinner (3 chicken wing segments; wasn't actually hungry for more, even though I dished up a bowl of additional food). Watched Glee; "Single Ladies" strikes again. (I really, really, really hope they do the next logical step, and perform "Hey Ya!", as "Single Ladies" is 2009's "Hey Ya!" in ubiquitousness and yet awesomeness). I do love watching boys do the "Single Ladies" choreography. "Pat... the... butt."
Wrote an actual rough-draft segment of the next work yesterday morning; I am already so in love with this book (or collection? I don't know yet) that it hurts. Total infatuation; thinking about it all the time. It's back. That feels fucking awesome. I got my writer's mind back. Hooray. I feel like I need to get over my reluctance and arrogance and take some more creative writing classes; of course I need more classes. Everyone does. It's like Jungian psychoanalysis; the analyst is the most loyal analysand. I have to strip myself of ego or I will never evolve. Jesus Christ, that's gonna hurt, though. All I am is a writer, and negative criticism hurts like fucking hell. But I'd better get some. Hell, I'd better get lots and lots and lots. And not see it as a criticism of myself, or a damnation of all my talents and hopes - only as fuel to work with; only as an indication of where to cut to save the patient. That's what the end of Paxil symbolizes - welcoming in agonizing pain, gulping in huge amounts of it, seeking out more, no longer fearing it, no longer turning away. If it hurts, it should.
Feeling mentally OK today; emotionally a bit fragile (overwhelming emotions all over the place - love, gratitude, anger, sadness, cringing fear, defiance), but also generally OK. Physically OK, except that my legs stiffen up if I don't get up and walk around every 15 minutes or more. Yep - just normal.