The Long Quiet

The original blog was one big, whiny piece about how things aren’t going right in my life.

But I had to say, “Fuck that,” and start again.

Which is really my daily methodology right now. Something goes wrong in my day? “Fuck that,” I say, and chuck it in the bin. I have better things to do than be miserable.

Like, writing my book. I’m ending up with a bubble-gum urban fantasy that is quite fun. I’m 30k in, which doesn’t matter as I have no idea how long it will be, but I’m planning on the shorter side because it isn’t meant to be a deep work. Just a newb magic-wielder goaded into becoming a vampire hunter by the local Fae princess, no big deal.

I think everyone is going through a rough spot right now, some more than others, but most to some degree. I think for me it’s the process of becoming less binary – my days are not “good” or “bad” anymore, but some blend of the two. I got candy today, and a co-worker offered to take me to lunch, but my car’s low-pressure gauge tripped on my way home from work, and I’m not sure if it’s going to be flat tomorrow morning.

My grandma used to call this rose-shit. If you slipped into a pile of shit but it smelled like roses, well, it wouldn’t be so bad as it could be.

I’m sure there are better examples but if you’d seen the cheery way she explained it, you’d probably understand something about the warped way I was raised.

So I’m taking this time to figure out what to do next, where to go in this journey that is life. I thought I had everything pegged, but then the pegs dropped out and left me with a clear board. It’s taking me longer than I thought it would to assemble the pieces.

Good thing I have lots of time.