I am at my desk...
... in my apartment...
... alone...
My nose has been acting up lately - today being a bit worse than previous days. I'm pretty sure it's due to the weather (cold, rainy, etc). I remember the days when my nose didn't react to anything. When it just smelled scented-markers or sheets that just tumbled freshly from the dryer. Then one summer, I felt like my face was melting by way of my nose almost similar to someone taking a crowbar to a fire hydrant. Ever since that day, it runs in the summer and blocks up during the winter. And with the way my body metabolizes medicine, who knows what will work when or if it'll work at all.
I've been thinking about this blog of mine... last time I posted here was in November 2021. (So much for consistency, eh?") Insomnia, stress, apathy, and body aches all equal the winning combination of doing anything else except what I want to be doing... which is not being lazy (both physically and emotionally). Mentally, my head is going a ba-zillion miles a minute - like a game of whack-a-mole on speed.
Admittedly, I'm tired and should be heading to bed, but I'm not tired enough to actually lay down and fall asleep. Also, I hate that my writing has taken a backseat to all my struggles. Aside from video games (which even then I sometimes just give up on and then rediscover with an "oh yeah, I remember you" kind of vibe.
Hello, Playstation, my old friend.
I've come to play games with you again
So yes, I'm tired... but I'm pushing forward to finish one blog post. And then when I'm done, it's off to bed, to lay my lower back on my heating pad, and hopefully pass out until my alarm goes off to start the day anew.
I miss writing. I really miss it. I miss it a lot.
Ever since my last car accident, the drive for it has never been the same. It's like that giant truck that ran the red light t-boned me in my Jeep and knocked my life's passion right out of me. Eventually, the stories came back. The "voices" of my characters checking in on me, telling me what they'd been up to since last we all hung out.
Last year, I started reading again - and that made me happy. I listened to some audiobooks and checked out some stuff from the library. I even bought some things from the bookstore. I used to consume stories all the time. After the accident? Not so much. The most stories I would consume were shows and YouTube videos and the occasional outing to the movies. This past year, I set a small goal for myself of 12 books (one for each month). I think I went over twice that - so huzzah to me.
I feel most inspired - or most energized - to write when I've watched a good movie or read a good book, and the storytelling is just so amazing that I want to take that "juice" and use it for my own work... but usually by the time it takes me to get home from the movie theatre or I can pry myself away from the book... the inspired buzzing fades, and I'm mentally left grasping at straws trying to suck what writing inspiration/energy I have left.
But hopefully, this year will be different (she says mentally and emotionally crossing her fingers, toes, and eyeballs).
And now... to bed!
Later my lovelies!
Have Goodness!
Rae
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