Saturday, April 9, 2011

Dreaming weird... again.

I dreamed last night that I suddenly developed an allergic reaction to ... something. My lips and right side of my face swelled up so much that my top lip split open. I tried to get my brother and sister to take me to a hospital, because I was having trouble breathing, but due to a series of miscommunications, I wound up wandering a shopping mall by myself, thinking I should just collapse on the ground and maybe someone would take me to a hospital. :) I just happened to be shopping for a date with a really handsome man. LOL

What does all this mean? Probably that my chigger bite was itching (I have a reaction to those - golf-ball sized swelling) and my allergies were causing me to get stuffy-nosed as I was sleeping. My sleeping brain is ever the drama queen of the id.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Writing... when??

I've been working on my story in fits and starts, but I can't seem to keep it together long enough to work consistently every day. I know, consistency is the key. But consistency is also the hobgoblin of little minds. LOL

I suppose that you could find a quote or a piece of Scripture to support just about any thought that you have, as if to prove your point is valid.

The truth is that I don't feel secure knowing that I can't concentrate on my writing unless it's the weekend. I had thought that I would have moments throughout the day when I could mull over my writing but I can't focus until I get home, and then I'm always so tired I take a nap for several hours. I don't know how I'm going to break that cycle alone.

It really does require a second person to distract me long enough to pass the afternoon and evening AWAKE instead of in an exhausted sleep.

I believe that I won't really get into my own writing until I do it on a daily basis and so far I'm just hitting it hard on Saturday nights. Part of me is a little peeved that I haven't got anything better to do with my Saturday nights. Or my Friday nights.

Heck, I'm a good person and not too bad to hang around with when I'm not nervous about trying to impress the person I'm with. Yeah, I said that out loud. I know, shouldn't try to impress some jerk who isn't paying attention anyway. Okay, coming back from the tangent.

I haven't found some magical ritual or formula to help me concentrate or stay awake after the school day is over. Could boost myself up on caffeine from Java Cafe, but there are a couple of flaws with that plan, other than the owner probably does not want to see me in there every day, even if I am spending $4 a drink. LOL Seriously? I could make my own coffee when I get home because sitting there drinking it by myself just makes me feel even more isolated. I can get isolation at home! :)

Everybody already knows how afraid I am to sit in public places by myself for any length of time. Ha ha, big joke, agoraphobia, and no, I'm not over it. It would be so much easier if occasionally someone wanted to carry on a conversation, but no... that never happens. Cafe, bar, same thing always happens. Go in alone, spend all the time alone, leave alone. Or just stay home alone, save money, and have my dog available for hugs. Understand now?

So, how does a person with a full-time job find the motivation to go home and write on a project when the project itself doesn't pump them up with excitement? Due to tons of self-doubt of course.

Well, that's why I'm carrying around index cards. If I have a fleeting thought, I can at least write it down. I have a spiral notebook but it's too intimidating to begin writing on that first page. I'd much rather type what I'm thinking because I can get closer to thinking speed than if I were hand writing anything.

Which means that I'm either a slow thinker or a typing speed-demon. Well, I leave the kids in my class agape lots of times when I'm answering their questions at the same time I'm typing super fast on some other document. :D I think I'm doing okay, typing-wise, but I do my best on a good old PC based keyboard. Laptop, no. I don't care about the clicking sounds, because it sounds like progress to me. I enjoy the tappity tappity sounds, as long as I'm the one doing the tapping.

Today the silly writing block I've put up is this: I need to move my computer to the other side of the desk, where my previous computer has been living. Why? The other one is dying rapidly and I can't access my scanner. Why should it get the best desktop real estate if I can't be sure it will power on?

Eh, I need a new desk. This one is fifteen years old and it was a good old desk, but it doesn't fit my needs. No drawers, ineffective CD storage, no spaces for peripherals. Ah, if only I were a carpenter. I could alter it. :)

You know what my office needs? Painting. A new computer desk with lots of drawers and shelves. Bookshelves. Decluttering. Organization. A way to block Quincy from marking everything as his with his squirts of weewee. Better lighting. Inspiration.

Am I interested in tackling ANY of those tasks? Gosh no.