Santa Cruz de Barahona Waking up and my elbow aches because, in the middle of the night, I turned over and ended up sleeping on it funny. And now that I’m awake, I can’t just drift back into a snooze-ful slumber because the pain, though not debilitating, is annoying enough to distract me.
Trying to snooze for an hour, only to finally give up, brush my teeth, and hop back into bed.
Gray sky outside is foreboding. I wonder if it will rain. No running today.
I sit up on my bed, pull out my netbook, and look up information for an open call for submissions. Jotting down the requirements, ideas for my story pop into my head. Revisiting an idea I had yet to flush out, I realize it’s perfect. I start typing.
And then I stop. The ache in my arm is gone, replaced now with a desire to go back to sleep. But I know it will not be in my best interest; too many things to do before work.
And then I remember how I felt the night before as I tried to go to sleep. And I realize, “Shit, I have to dealing with feelings. Stupid stupid feelings. There went my morning.”
I open my netbook back up. I type more, no longer caring about cadence or developing a story. I type my thoughts, all the feelings, until I have pages on my screen of the things I tried to ignore. All the things I hoped would be lost in my dreams.
I read the words back. I edit, add to, and save the document.
I do it again for other feelings, less impactful thoughts that still warrant some time. I flush it all out before I have to be more productive. I run out of time for more fun writing.
I get up. I throw on work clothes. I eat food. I watch a touch of NetFlix. I mend my work pants cause I don’t want to buy new ones yet. I leave for work.
Outside today. I find a parking spot not effected by rush hour. I wait til closer to my call time. I keep a look out for meter maids. I try not to bake in my car. I pay the meter. I walk to the site. I work.
Four hours, what I was slated for, turns into five. And six.
I get really pissed. I cancel my dinner plans. I reschedule for Wednesday. I try to not yell at people who are being stupid. I remind myself I’m angry because my blood sugar has dropped. And I’m working outside. And my job sucks sometimes. I breathe.
I end work at the 6.5hr mark. I try not to be mad anymore since I am on my way home.
I drive a friend to their car. I buy fast food, cause at this point I really don’t give a shit.
I sit on my couch with a roommate watching Nathan Fillion and Stana Katic be awesome. I feel better about my life.
I finish my food. I finish the show. I clean up some in the kitchen. I drag my ass upstairs to my bedroom.
And then I realize, after I start taking off my disgusting work clothes, that my clean clothes are downstairs in the dryer. GROAN. No bed just yet.
I drag my ass downstairs. I retrieve my clothes. I come back upstairs.
Brush my teeth. Get into bed. Open my netbook. Type. Wish I had more time to write, but a 6am call looms.
The good news: I learned today I was accepted into community college. Maybe less groaning in my future?
Categorised as: Emotional | Random | Rant | Work
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