Saturday, September 22, 2012
There are only three reasons to push me up against a wall, but the way I've been feeling this week, I deserve all three. Times of hormonal foxtrotting are always worse when you're feeling stressed. And I am stressed about not having a job yet. Which is good, I should be, I need to be. But I mean, I said some weird shit this week. I was definitely being girly. That's such an odd word, any word that could mean both bitchy, cutesy, and terrified is a thing I have trouble dealing with.
I've started saying little prayers to myself, like "the beach will be there in the Spring, so this comes first." And, "no, sitting here for 6 hours writing is what you WANTED to do, remember?" And at open mic on Thursday, I got drunk even though I had really meant not to, certain conversations transpired. I failed miserably at not getting drunk. But no more. We are entering the austerity portion of this mid life crisis. The excitement is faded and the work has begun. It's like Wilmington and I just decided to go steady.
I've been writing as many ideas down as I can. I have a lot of things I need them for now, so I carry around a little notebook and a nice-ish pen, and I wrote down joke ideas and essay ideas, ideas about meter and ideas about submissions, places to apply. I don't think I'm very good yet at rewrites, so I try to go back over things three times. I crave certain places or foods or sensations, and I drink more coffee and tell myself no. I feel like my roommates must think I'm complete bum, but the assumed shame of sitting around all day on the computer causes me to keep typing any time they are downstairs or around me, because it makes me sound productive.
The strangest part sometimes about being a girl is feeling your sense of self-identity slosh around inside you based on the rotations of a planet and a satellite rock.
Posted by Bridget Callahan at 1:47 PM