Stupid Fridays. At the end of stupid long weeks. I get so tired.
I tried to seal this blog off last night. Blogs are passé now. Everyone's on to Twitter. This blog isn't going to be my entre into the world of letters. It doesn't even provide very good service value to readers. Consequently readership has dropped over the years. So I sealed this off, thinking it would stay as my own personal journal.
But then I couldn't.
When I sat down to write today, I started feeling panicked. Like I wasn't going to be able to write, like I didn't have any connection to the real world. All the things I do every day, everywhere I go, does anyone even notice me? Does it even matter where I am? I smile at people; I make small talk; I buy things and sit at public tables. But that's not really being integrated into a social environment is it? That's not really being an inherent part. Not like it would be if I could afford to have a regular job and a promising career.
At least with this blog, I have the illusion that I might be communicating as part of a bigger picture. Providing a message to someone in Illinois, or the UK, or, surprisingly, Ukraine. Without that comforting illusion, what's the point of writing?
Plus I had to sign in to even see my blog. That freaked me out. What if I forget my password? I've had to change so many passwords recently due to spamming and hacking that that has happened to me. I've lost access to some of my accounts. So, since I feel anxious anyway, there didn't seem to be any point in adding to my suffering. After all, no one is reading this besides me anyway. So why seal it from no one? And if you have read this far, consider yourself a rare exception.
Okay. I really have to pull myself together and finish my story. Over and out.
I'm writing in a new bakery today. So far, I love it. It's big and pretty calm, but not deserted. The tables are comfy, I found an outlet, and the air conditioning is blasting cold which is a definite must in our continued string of 105 degree sweltering heat days.
I've knocked out two proposals and some emails so far. Next I really need to finish the story that's due in my writing class tomorrow as the final project. I have a good start and a great end; I just need to buckle down and get the middle going. I'm taking advantage of this space to warm up and get my tone flowing so that it doesn't sound forced by the deadline.
Last night I dreamed that I was hanging around with the Walton family and my good friend John Boy. We were just shootin the breeze, talking writing and siblings.
Then Adrian Monk appeared. He and I hit it off very well. We were having a great time together. Then I decided to worry about responsibility. Called a halt to the action -- yeah, like a dream pregnancy was really going to pose a big problem. Sheesh, it was a DREAM, after all -- and never got back to it because of interruption from all those little Waltons.
Not too different from my real life. You think I could do better with my unconscious mind.