WEEK SEVEN.

20 Dec 2017

This week has been a drrrragg. I don’t know what it was about: no energy, not enough sleep, no enthusiasm whatsoever. I don’t need to tell you that that sucks balls – if enthusiasm goes, Regret Everything will go with it. And literally was using any excuse to do whatever else but write. I had to use proper force to drag myself by the hair and loathed every minute of it.

Maybe I am just not wired with grit, you know? There must be a reason behind my fickleness and tendency to favour quitting. Or is it because I don’t see the end? The bigger picture? The direction? Of course, I write for the sake of writing, I have no doubt that that’s where my joy primarily comes from, yet it doesn’t feel satisfying in the way I thought it would/should. Surely, if writing was life I wouldn’t have to slap myself out of self-induced comas and self-imposed Netflix distractions to do it. The fight with myself can’t be physical, but it feels physical – dragging feet, slouching, missing keys on the keyboard. WHY IS THAT? And although I doubt it is “normal”, is it at least known to other bloggers/writers? Is there something I should specifically pay attention to to “fix” this bloody slump? Or is it happening because it’s so cold?

I think one of the reasons for all of this is that I can’t see where I am going. Like, this is not revolutionary writing, so that’s not what’s going to get me “noticed”, that said, my writing is not bad. If I wanted to I could write for money? Please let me know if you don’t think I am at that level. But while I am under the impression that I am at that level, should I try and do something about it? Freelance? You see that’s where I get into trouble: for someone who has lived this many years but never had to “find” a job, this is the world I am weary of. I’ve worked in teaching for a few years but even that wasn’t through a formal application process. I had never had a CV – until my friend Jorge was like “Right, we are writing you a CV” – and I had never pursued anything on my own. How the sh-t is that supposed to actively change? Where do I even start to look and what do I submit???

But good God I would love me some earned money. Apart from those few years at school, I don’t know what getting a salary is. What does that feel like? Must feel f-cking amazing, made even more amazing by the fact that I could for sure use some cash. The number of times I say “we can’t afford it” to Sofia – I can no longer count them. Couldn’t take her to Winter Wonderland, can’t take her to see Matilda, can’t send her on a school ski trip. This blows.

Well, I guess we’ll see. For now, I need to keep working on this writing non-stop bit. Speaking of which, my next Creative Writing’s theme is The Lady That Fed The Birds. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? I have nightmares about not being able to come up with a decent idea for it. All my writing is self-involved, I have never created a character, or thought of creating a character, or even considered that my imagination is capable of creating a character. This is making me paranoid now. The class is only three weeks away and I keep staring at a blank sheet. Back to the bigger scale: if I am not up for the challenge of producing a story once a month how can I convince anyone I am up for the challenge of freelancing for them? Ugh.