1. Quora has me wishing a pox on all of humanity.
A part of my writing strategy lately has involved going onto Quora to look for questions to answer into blog posts. A part of this is that half of the questions are simply answered with a sentence or two.
The other half are questions that are so mind-bogglingly convoluted, or obviously leading, that it would take a full-length doctoral dissertation to explain how the question-asker is wrong about everything and what the correct answer is.
There is rarely in between.
2. I need to go do laundry. I did not do laundry today.
This requires a drive down to the laundromat. Going out into public requires clean clothes. It also means sitting in the town hangout and hoping that there’s a washer and dryer open. I got this done today, but barely.
When you spend all your spoons worrying about a thing, worrying about not doing the thing, and then actually finally doing the thing, there isn’t much left for writing.
3. I need to read more.
I have done almost no fiction reading recently. As in, I think I’ve read one book so far this year. There is so much to worry about — daily posts on Medium, working on the novel, finding ways to make more money, not having more money — not to mention actually do, that reading time gets the shaft. Especially because I like to read in long shifts — entire novels in one sitting, preferably while sitting in a warm bath. That . . . hasn’t happened lately.
Though honestly, I’m about 3 years behind on reading in my genre. So many books to read. And too much other stuff to worry about doing.
The problem with not reading is that, when you don’t actually do anything during the day, reading is your way of being around other people and actually experiencing things. It gives you things to think about, things to talk about, things to imagine.
4. I’m tired and bitchy.
I’ve talked about this a lot lately, but I’m tired. Even after what can be considered good nights of sleep, I still wake up exhausted. Just starting that day at an absolute low, and trying not to be an asshole to everybody — which pretty much failed today. Is bad enough.
There are days where all of this shit has cut my fuse down to a nub — and I have absolutely no patience for stupid questions, packed laundromats, or the mountain of shit I have to worry about.
But thankfully, the anger always cycles back to sadness; the two sides of my emotional coin.
5. It’ll all still be there tomorrow.
One day of writing isn’t going to make or break me. One day where I can gather my shit back together and try to come at this as a more rational, less temperamental baby.
So I’ll let it go. And if you’re having one of these days, maybe you can, too.