Random-As-Shit Thursday Thoughts
1. I’ve come to the conclusion the last few days that I’m a terrible person. Not that I’m on the level of pushing bratty little kids down the stairs or rubbing my naked ass all over the neighbor’s cars after a recent trip to the bathroom, but I’m up there. I’ve propelled into the early stages of ‘grumpy old woman’ syndrome even though I’m barely 30. I had a conversation with Alex yesterday about how disappointed he was that he was unable to help his brother move this weekend due to wrist tendinitis. I mean, I figured he must’ve been promised an endless supply of pizza and beer or something… but he wasn’t. He was just looking forward to the act of helping someone who needed it. What? Is this normal? How do I get to be like this? The thought of helping somebody move their crap is on par with walking blindfolded into the middle of oncoming traffic for me. Why am I such a negative Nancy? Do normal people actually just enjoy doing whatever they have to in order to help someone without ever expecting them to return the favor, or is my husband just a saint? I need some Jesus or something.
2. I’ve been hiding this past week because I’ve ventured into uncharted territory and, man… these rocky waves are making me seasick as hell. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hack it. I started writing a book a few days ago. Now, this is something I’ve been putting off for a long time even though there’s been characters and scenes stuck in my head for almost a year. I was waiting for the right time and I think I’m finally ready for their story to be told. The only problem is that I already hate what I’ve written and want to restart. How do I get past the self criticism? Am I ever going to like the shit that I write? How do authors do it? I’m my own worst enemy.
(Is it sad I saw this sticky note on the box an instantly thought, ‘BUT BACON! What about bacon?’ Sorry about the shitty quality.)
3. People are making life insufferable lately. I can’t walk around Barnes and Noble without hearing people talk about anti-Islamic hate groups or go into my grocery store without being chastised about eating meat. A few days ago I spent a solid 30 minutes going through my Twitter feed, turning off some people’s re-tweets because all it is (literally 20 times in a row) is people complaining about Trump. (I love you guys, but you are killing me.) My ENTIRE feed was related to politics – the thing I try my hardest to avoid in life. We get it. Trump is a psychotic, orange, hateful mother fucker who may very well cause a new war. I like to live in a bubble though, when you have extreme anxiety it does wonders. (I know this is going to offend some people I follow on Twitter. It’s not personal – I love your blogs and want to see your tweets. I just turned off re-tweets. Yes, you are allowed to be pissed and angry over Trump. This is just self-preservation.)