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Well, today has been, for all intents and purposes... weird. Not quite an adventure (and that's a shame), but at least... interesting. I'm apparently still waymuch cranky, but hopefully that's getting better. At least I'm functioning (which is something I obviously haven't been doing for about the past month, aside from brief bouts of sewing). I managed to actually make my dentist's appointment today... which means I have to be there at eight in the morning on Friday. That'll be fun. My biggest accomplishment today, though, was finally freaking calling Rescom. Because it finally got to that point (I'm only here for like, another week and a half, I need to know). Did I find out anything useful? Oh no. Of course not. I confused whoever answered the phone "Er, is this Barry?" "... What??" "Oh, um... sorry. Barry, can I speak to Barry?" "... He's not here." So I had to talk to the assistant dude. Who, unfortunately, didn't know. And told me to call back, but when I did no one was around, so I left a message. If no one calls or e-mails me tomorrow, I'm going to explode. And that'll be messy and bad. But at least I've done everything I can to make sure I'm still employed. Tomorrow I'll have to gather what's left of my brain together enough to write some kind of statement of purpose for the Advanced Fiction class (which will largely be explaining that 1) I need the class and 2) I not only don't normally write in first person, but it's almost never about pirates) and send it in with my sample (which is going to be the pirate story, because it's the only thing I wrote last quarter that doesn't need major, major editing right now).
Thrown in with all this today, though, there was also the bit where my sister were pulling in to the bank parking lot and got hit by a bereaved old lady. I felt so sorry for her, because her daughter had just died, and she felt so bad, even though all she'd done was lost some of the paint on her rear bumper to our tire. My sister was kind of shocked into anger the whole rest of the day, though.
But at least things are moving again. You know what's weird, though (yes, all of you can laugh at me), is that it feels like things couldn't have gotten moving until I was finally past that giant leap of plot that happened last night in the rp. This is probably why I shouldn't be a writer. Or maybe it is. I don't know... one should not become so terribly attached to a plot line. You know, it's weird... over the past few days I've been all disparaging towards myself because I'm not a dork in a way that's of any use (I completely fail at being obsessive) and yet... here I am clearly quite obsessive. And weird.
All right, perhaps I should elabourate on why that observation is a semi-epiphany for me. I don't know why, or when, but basically lately my observation of everyone who's been successful is dorky in some way. Obsessive. And yet I often lack the kind of hardcore obsessions that others do (arguments could be made for fandoms, but those kind of fall by the wayside in the grand scheme of things, unless you produce massive amounts of fanworks, and I can't say that I do). People know what they want to do because they can be obsessive about something. And so a lot of the reason I've been down lately is that I continue to lack... whatever it is that makes me want to just throw myself at something. So yeah... apparently my mind is just kind of blind to my obsession with plots and writing. Perhaps I'm not on the wrong track after all.
P.S. Is it weird when you're flipping channels, stop on a documentary on the end of the world, and are more distracted by the fact that you're pretty sure the background music is Boards of Canada?
Thrown in with all this today, though, there was also the bit where my sister were pulling in to the bank parking lot and got hit by a bereaved old lady. I felt so sorry for her, because her daughter had just died, and she felt so bad, even though all she'd done was lost some of the paint on her rear bumper to our tire. My sister was kind of shocked into anger the whole rest of the day, though.
But at least things are moving again. You know what's weird, though (yes, all of you can laugh at me), is that it feels like things couldn't have gotten moving until I was finally past that giant leap of plot that happened last night in the rp. This is probably why I shouldn't be a writer. Or maybe it is. I don't know... one should not become so terribly attached to a plot line. You know, it's weird... over the past few days I've been all disparaging towards myself because I'm not a dork in a way that's of any use (I completely fail at being obsessive) and yet... here I am clearly quite obsessive. And weird.
All right, perhaps I should elabourate on why that observation is a semi-epiphany for me. I don't know why, or when, but basically lately my observation of everyone who's been successful is dorky in some way. Obsessive. And yet I often lack the kind of hardcore obsessions that others do (arguments could be made for fandoms, but those kind of fall by the wayside in the grand scheme of things, unless you produce massive amounts of fanworks, and I can't say that I do). People know what they want to do because they can be obsessive about something. And so a lot of the reason I've been down lately is that I continue to lack... whatever it is that makes me want to just throw myself at something. So yeah... apparently my mind is just kind of blind to my obsession with plots and writing. Perhaps I'm not on the wrong track after all.
P.S. Is it weird when you're flipping channels, stop on a documentary on the end of the world, and are more distracted by the fact that you're pretty sure the background music is Boards of Canada?
