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dragonlady7it's after 7:30 already and I need to be started on my tasks for the day, but man, I just... I gotta sit in bed a few minutes and let my brain catch up.
A thought, reading the comments that came in after I went to bed last night:
Am I the only novelist who absolutely sucks at poetry?
People are suggesting I can write poems for gifts this Xmas since I'm broke.
But I haven't written a poem since I was last forced to in high school. I can't write poetry. I can't rhyme. And free verse? Well I just end up writing a 5,000-word short story with weird line breaks and poor grammar. That's my attempt at poetry.
Am I the only one whose skillset is so narrow? I call myself a writer, but I can't do songs or poems and it took me six months to do one drabble. (Haven't had the guts to post it anywhere but HASA--General (visible only to logged-in members), and nobody there has read it.) I can't say anything in under 500 words, and can't say much under 2,000.
I dunno. I blame Tolkien for unrealistically raising expectations. But he was a freaking linguist. That was all linguistic masturbation. I don't do that!
I got home exhausted last night and Dave had actually put up the Christmas lights-- not around the porch, like my minimalist, why-get-a-ladder self had thought to do it, but actually in the Christmas-light clips around the gutters, so the front of the house is kind of outlined. So cute!
It made me so happy. Perhaps nothing else is ready for Christmas, but at least our house isn't bleak and dark now!
Of course, he'd hurt himself doing it, and so was grumpy and tired.
He then proceeded to clean the living room and the kitchen. And I swept the bathroom and scrubbed the toilet, but I was so terribly, terribly tired, my back hurt, and my feet hurt. And I was guilty, because I'd made him do all this work for me but wasn't willing to participate myself.
And then I thought, well, shit, I worked 15 hours yesterday and 8 today. I get to have a break.
And so I went to bed.
Not before Katy called, 'just to talk' she said but really she just wanted to know what to get me for Xmas, and didn't tell me anything of what was going on with her life. Which is, I'm sure, hectic-- her Division is deploying in a month.
But hey-- at least they'll have Humvees with armor this time. Katy's wasn't armored, last tour. (Adam's was.)
A thought, reading the comments that came in after I went to bed last night:
Am I the only novelist who absolutely sucks at poetry?
People are suggesting I can write poems for gifts this Xmas since I'm broke.
But I haven't written a poem since I was last forced to in high school. I can't write poetry. I can't rhyme. And free verse? Well I just end up writing a 5,000-word short story with weird line breaks and poor grammar. That's my attempt at poetry.
Am I the only one whose skillset is so narrow? I call myself a writer, but I can't do songs or poems and it took me six months to do one drabble. (Haven't had the guts to post it anywhere but HASA--General (visible only to logged-in members), and nobody there has read it.) I can't say anything in under 500 words, and can't say much under 2,000.
I dunno. I blame Tolkien for unrealistically raising expectations. But he was a freaking linguist. That was all linguistic masturbation. I don't do that!
I got home exhausted last night and Dave had actually put up the Christmas lights-- not around the porch, like my minimalist, why-get-a-ladder self had thought to do it, but actually in the Christmas-light clips around the gutters, so the front of the house is kind of outlined. So cute!
It made me so happy. Perhaps nothing else is ready for Christmas, but at least our house isn't bleak and dark now!
Of course, he'd hurt himself doing it, and so was grumpy and tired.
He then proceeded to clean the living room and the kitchen. And I swept the bathroom and scrubbed the toilet, but I was so terribly, terribly tired, my back hurt, and my feet hurt. And I was guilty, because I'd made him do all this work for me but wasn't willing to participate myself.
And then I thought, well, shit, I worked 15 hours yesterday and 8 today. I get to have a break.
And so I went to bed.
Not before Katy called, 'just to talk' she said but really she just wanted to know what to get me for Xmas, and didn't tell me anything of what was going on with her life. Which is, I'm sure, hectic-- her Division is deploying in a month.
But hey-- at least they'll have Humvees with armor this time. Katy's wasn't armored, last tour. (Adam's was.)
