(and other inscrutable tuesday night thoughts)
I get tired a lot.
(The end, that’s the blog. Hi, how’s your 2021 turning out, by the way?)
Let’s think of life in terms of plotting out a novel, right. There’s a main plot and subplots, and these threads are intertwined, at least in a good one. I like my day job, I think I’m decent at it and I dedicate 40 hours a week to it, but I don’t want my day job to be the A-plot of my life. Because capitalism’s a bitch. So work is a B-plot. A couple months ago I might’ve said my love life was the A-plot, but after going through a pretty painful breakup I’m inclined to think otherwise, and that could be for the best. Actually, knock work down to C, put love at B. A romance subplot is almost always the way to go, breakups and all. Alright. So what’s the A-plot, then?
I want my A-plot to be writing. “Cool! So, Ellie, in that case: what’ve you been writing lately?” Jack shit! Because I am tired! A lot!
I’ve been feeling pretty creatively stagnant. I have a ~75% finished book manuscript that I haven’t been able to wrap up in a year. Another book idea lying in wait in my periphery. And haven’t even tried writing a short story since my last one was published in July. I guess a pandemic will do that to ya.
Do I have a solution? Nah, dude. This whole blog is just wordvomit that I’ll remember in six months and cringe horribly at. Times are weird right now. But I’m trying to find that motivation again. Maybe I just need to upgrade my brain storage capacity. That’s what therapy is, right?