December 11, 2006
A Bounty of Goodness
Since I've been back from California my life has been this: Get up, shower, write at least 2500 to 3000 good words a day, eat while I write and, if I'm not too tired and I made my word count, go out and play at night, then sleep. Next day: lather, rise, repeat. Most of the time, I haven't gone out to play. I've either collapsed at home or done a tiny bit of fun writing.
You know, people joked about me slacking off once my contract at MS was done but I don't think I've worked this hard on something in a long time. Fortunately, it's something I want to work on. This is good since I haven't been able to take any sort of break at all since my CA trip. Not even a weekend break. I have to do laundry and other chores in and around writing pauses to let my brain rest.
However, I think I do go a little nuts from time to time. I'm talking to myself a lot, "Ok, Jennifer, quit messing around. You've got a thousand words left to do. Get to work, woman." I'm also threatening to kill the cat when she starts her yowling "echo tests" in the hallway by the stairs so it echoes and amplifies. I don't think she's used to me being home all the time. We've already had one 'discussion' over who gets to sit in my leather chair at the computer.
I have to admit, I'm looking forward to no longer being on this deadline, getting a little bit of a break and to working on my own stuff.
I had a birthday! It was a pretty good one, too.
The Birthday Loot (so far - I know I have more coming):
Some of you may know that when it comes to standing up for other people, I am the queen of the Momma Bears. However, when it comes to standing up for myself, I'm a deflated creampuff. I don't know why. I just know is. But, I've been coaching and encouraging people to stand up for themselves lately. To not allow themselves to be abused, manipulated or otherwise maligned. So, when I hit a very uncomfortable situation, I was pretty much forced to put my money where my mouth was and stand my ground.
Let me tell you, this was really hard.
I was over at Glenn and Andrew's getting my hair done. Their neighbor, WC came over. I'm sure that WC is a nice enough guy but that night, he smelled like a brewery and was about as coherent as a ferret on speed. He came in and started talking politics. For some reason, he focused on me. Maybe because I was the only female in the room. Maybe because I was the only one who looked him in the eyes. I don't know. But, he focused on me, ranting about how people were asleep and should wake up as well as how this administration sucks and how the war on terrorism was to keep the black man down.
Now, I don't necessarily disagree or agree with anything he said. However, I don't talk politics with people most of the time, including my friends, much less a raving drunk. So, I started to zone out. WC noticed and snapped his fingers at me. "Excuse me. I'm talking to you. You're asleep. That's what I'm saying. No one's paying attention. You're all asleep!"
I had two choices - politely listen while getting more and more uncomfortable or say something and make him back off. I made my choice. "Well, WC. I don't know you and I don't talk politics to people I don't know." My voice was a hell of a lot calmer than what I was feeling.
"Alright. That's alright. This isn't politics. I'm just saying that you people need to start waking up to what's going on around you..."
"WC, I do not want to talk politics with you."
At that point, he got the hint. He also got a bit upset and left. But, at least he waited until he got outside to start shouting about how Bush could kiss his ass.
Glenn was surprised that he left. Apparently, WC likes to do nothing but get drunk and ramble on about politics. So much so that Glenn and Andrew just ignore him when he starts up. Me being bluntly honest sent him away. I'm pretty glad because I did not like the where my thoughts had been going... "If he gets violent, I can hit him with the jar and duck under the stairs..." Yeah. I was feeling a bit threatened by the whole experience.
Tarot Card for the Day: The Hanged Man