The weather outside today looks like this.
It does not match the time of this post. It’s a Wednesday. I am writing a blog post because I theoretically write blog posts thrive a week. Okay, Storm does Friday (most of the time.) Usually, it’s from a computer. Today it’s from my tablet, so there is a bit of a learning curve. I don’t particularly*want* to post, but it’s something I need to do. I am not intending for a downer post here, and actually hope to end in a positive or optimistic note.
Let’s shift years and go to a quote. I like quotes.
We were trapped in the limbo between where we were and where we wanted to be. –David Levithan, “The Alumni Interview.”
I love that quote. I love David Levithan. His name is on it, I will read it. That’s how it works. Today, I read his short story, “The Alumni Interview,” and wow, did that hit home. Our family is still vagabonding, past our last apartment , not yet at the next. It’s frustrating. Throw in two depressions (me, Real Life Romance Hero) and one anxiety (me) and an adolescent feline (Storm) and writing time is often rare. If it presents itself when my energy level is low, or I am not in the same place as my keyboard when I want to make with the clickety clacks, that opens a door for a lot of self-flagellation.
Writers, if you are not one yourself, are really good at self-flagellation. Especially when depression is involved, or stress. Or stress and depression. Or stress over depression. You get the picture. Yeah. It’s one of those days. They happen. Life hapoens, and writing, well, that happens, too. Except for the days it doesn’t, because there are those. This obviously isn’t one because I am here, contorted in the motel desk chair, in a position that really is comfortable, feet propped on the dresser/desk/shelves thing, under the TV I haven’t the faintest idea how to work. I am a Netflix and Hulu gal these days. My bribe for writing and posting is a Fuller House bingelet, maybe a movie later, but before that, it’s time for some free writing.
On the days when writing -writing is not happening, that doesn’t mean a day lost, completely. Writing down where I want to be helps, because then I can make a map to get there. Where do I want to be? Where am I now? How can l connect the two? Sometimes, that’s rambling on the internet. Sometimes it’s coloring in a blanket fort. Sometimes it’s sticking one’s nose in a book, or a fanfic, or whatever else works to keep things moving along, even if it’s at a crawl. Right now, it is this.