Very interesting. I feel like the font changed on this thing – or this particular posting screen, as it seems there are several. I don’t know why I like it, but I do. Maybe it makes me feel more professional or erudite than I, or my topics, generally require.
So, my cousin/business coach + a strong macchiato (one of those artisanal, hand-roasted, coffee beans were psychically encouraged and played Mozart sort of places – only, you know, with a result that feels really worth the extraordinarily cheap price) meant I feel better. This is also the coffee shop where I’ve been on two dates which also ended two amusing and somewhat fulfilling flirtations, so I think of it now as sort of an emotional bug-zapper. I go there and feel big things – for better or worse.
She said if it were possible to set aside the anxiety about the money – could you look at this time like a gift? After some hemming and hawing, I think, I think I might be able to do that. I can buckle down and get something written beyond these posts. I can do some work and get something out of this even if I didn’t choose it. So, I guess, my plan for the first week is to just to feel that one out by making myself come home and use the afternoons for writing and, potentially, for sussing out a new job if that comes to be something I need to deal with. She also gave me some ideas in that regard, too.
At this moment, for open projects, I have the novel that my sister and I are working on, my short story that I am doing for writers’ group/pleasure, my big novel of love and pain that has to eventually be finished, and now this whole weird collection of excerpts from this whole daily blogging adventure woven into some other essays I’ve written and other ideas I have about fear, anxiety, and where I am at and aiming for. That one is obviously personal and the major block is I need to change enough to justify continuing it. If that makes any sense at all. I just feel like maybe there’s something I have to say that might be of value. It’s weird. Every time I want to throw that one out, I find a reason to keep plucking at it.
That’s a bit too much, really, and so I have to pick and choose and I constantly think I’m choosing the wrong thing and feel as though I’m cruelly neglecting the others. Really, what I need is to finish something. So I am forging ahead with whatever I can do when I can do it.
Maybe it’s the shot of caffeine, but I feel pretty creative and energetic right now. And I still have one more day off, holy smokes!
Weight this morning indicated that I lost 1.8 lbs last week. Okay. So about 8 pounds in 8 weeks. Okay. Sure. Well. I am good with that. I don’t know what the next month or two of privations will mean, but this is a result of tracking on My Fitness Pal, fitting in exercise, eating much less, messing up, messing up again. Just working on it. Prioritizing it. So. Yeah. Let’s not count any chickens or any eighths of chickens.
But yep. Onwards and inwards.