Habit’s Wake

I suppose one could describe my current state as “in a mood.” The business of publishing is fit to drive one to distraction, and a particular neighbor is running a pressure washer for hours at a time while the noise goes right across my nerves, dragging spikes and sandpaper.1

It could be that I need a win, however small. It could also be that I’ve hit the limit, so to speak, in many a way. Living with extreme empathy, while great for pouring myself into a character’s skin and figuring out their motivations, is a distinct drawback under current conditions. The number of people who seem to have precisely none while I got a quadruple measure is heartbreaking.

I seem to have reached the limit of even my quadruple measure, to be honest. It pains me to feel that perhaps the bigots who were screaming “fuck your feelings”, refusing to mask up and take the pandemic seriously, are in effect reaping what they have sown. If it weren’t for the collateral damage–the innocent caught in their plague-bearing fire–I might even think it a wee bit justified.

We could have been done with this by now. A few weeks of paying everyone to stay home, vaccinating, and masking afterward could have fixed it. But no, some greedy corporations had to have their serfs kept sick and terrified, and some racists just had to have their fix of propaganda-laden cruelty.

I need a rest in the worst way, but if I take one work piles up and all I do is circle the house aimlessly, wishing I was working so at least I could peek into another world since this one is proving so unsatisfactory. And publishing, festina lente as it is, with the ones at the bottom producing everything the entire edifice depends on–the writers, in case there was any doubt–treated as embarrassing afterthoughts to be abused instead of the jewel of the whole system, well. It’s enough to drive one to distraction.

There’s coffee to swill, and walking the dogs to be done. The minutiae of daily life goes on. Maybe a run will help me feel better. Copyedits have landed, and at least accomplishing those will push a book (and a series) another step towards the finish line. But oh, I’m so tired; I just rolled out of bed under protest and I am already exhausted.

If not for habit dragging me along in its wake, I might decide to simply crawl in a hole and close it up after me. The thought holds a definite attraction.

What’s getting you through the day today, my beloveds? I hope it’s something pleasant. In any case, any way of getting through the day is acceptable. The important thing is to reach the evening somewhat intact.

Suppose I’d best get started. See you around.

  1. Nothing needs to be pressure-washed for hours three days in a row starting at six AM, my dude. Nothing.

6 thoughts on “Habit’s Wake”

  1. Pressure washers and leaf blowers were invented by Satan. If there is a Satan . . . I was fortunate enough to retire early so my days are filled with – whatever I want to do. Sometimes that is nothing. Hope you can catch your breath a time or three today.

    • I’m not sure if I should blame an ill-meaning deity for leaf blowers and pressure washers, or just a certain fraction of humanity’s unwavering commitment to be assholes early in the morning. 😛

  2. At this point, I’m mostly surviving on the grace of friends and D&D — and what little writing I can get done. (I mean… actually I’ve been getting quite a bit of writing done, but it’s D&D stuff and not directly saleable. On the other hand, it is still writing, so I should probably count it and quit giving myself such a hard time. It’s fun, and vaguely therapeutic.)

    We did a painting party last night (with wine! but also masked, so folks were stepping over to the designated drinking corner so they could pull their masks down and drink at a distance from the rest of us) and it was full of hilarity. It’s weird having friends again, but oh so very good.

    • I’d say it doesn’t matter if it’s salable, it’s still writing, so chalk up my vote in that column and write away! I wish I could still play D&D; I loved it a great deal.

      A designated drinking corner is an elegant solution indeed. One I’m going to steal if I ever go out among people again. Heh.

  3. Might I suggest, that a marauding band of rabid squirrels be pointed in said neighbors direction? Tell them he has stolen all of their Acorns? Or maybe horde of angry self propelled lawnmowers? All arriving at 5am.

    Spending my day chilling out with 2 dogs.. one a grouchy 10 year old Papillion/Chihuahua mix, a hyper 6 month old Golden Shepherd ( German Shepherd and Golden Retriever mix) and my Gothic Black cat that I wish I could share a photo of with you. These are my sidekicks while I read, macrame or crochet atm.

    Hope your day gets better! Much love and appreciation for all of your hard work ❤

    ~ Wendy

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