Evidence I Am A Crazy Person

The past few days have been snow days from my full-time job, but when you work two jobs and are trying to launch a new career trajectory as a writer, there really is no such thing as a day off.

I’ve spent the past few days up to my eyeballs in a short story that is not going well, to say the least. It’s due in a few days’ time, and frankly, if the word of the year for me had not been “succeed” I might have been sorely tempted to throw in the towel on the whole debacle. The thing about writing, however, is that it does truly get better if you just keep chipping away at it. I would have called my first run at it pure crap, but now I’d upgrade it to “meh” at least. Hopefully by Sunday it’ll be fantastic shit. We’ll see – I really don’t expect anything, given that it’ll be the first time I’ve ever sought publication for anything I’ve written, outside of the nonsense I throw up in here (yes, like vomit).

Maybe it’s because I am a little overworked, or maybe it’s because I am going a little stir-crazy with cabin fever, but this week I’ve been noticing all of my little quirks, that when I think about them, really don’t make any sense at all.

Take today for example. I was loading up the dishwasher, and when I thought it was full full, but still managed to squeeze the last five things into it, I was filled with great satisfaction. And, I realized that this is me Every. Single. Time. Why don’t I just run the dishwasher more frequently? Am I so adverse to hearing the dishwasher running that I can’t stand to turn it on more than once or twice a week? Sigh. I have no answers to these deep, philosophical questions.

In any case, back to work! But seriously, if you stop by this post, please do let me know what your weirdo-nesses are so that I can feel like we’re all in crazy-town together!

Next edition: My pure, unadulterated hatred for folding laundry.

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