I wake up, drink coffee, have a ciggarette, eat breakfast, walk to the waterfront, catch Pokemon, write, come back to the hotel, write, do an activity hosted by the timeshare if it's interesting, take a billion showers, eat food, write loads more, then sleep.
I've come to the realization that I need a job, I need to quit smoking, and I need to diet. It's not just a want anymore. It's a need. When I get home I'm going cold turkey from ciggarettes. I'm calling ticket to work, and I'm majorly watching what I eat. I need to for my health and sanity.
I've also discovered that I dislike people. They just talk and talk about themselves and don't ask about the other people in the conversation. Am I guilty of this? I try to ask people about themselves...I don't know.
I think I'm going to take my pills and go to bed early. I'll hopefully wake up early to write more.
I can't wait to get home. I miss my babies. I miss their noise and chaos. I kinda miss cleaning my house too. I miss laundry and dishes. I miss my Joseph. I miss not worrying about my barking tic bothering other people.
I should finish my nineth chapter by Monday. I go home Tuesday, and I have doctors appointments Wednesday. I won't have a full novel done, but I can continue working on it after I get home hopefully.
I need a job though. Any job will do at this point. I want a big girl professional job, but I keep getting rejected from them. Sometimes I wonder why I even try. I feel like I'm doomed to permanently work jobs a trained monkey could do. It's depressing. Maybe if I become a writer I'll have a big girl job. It's not that I want to write anymore. I used to love it, but now it's just the opportunity to maybe do something with my life instead of fading into obscurity.
Sometimes I think that the only thing keeping me from becoming a crazy cat lady in a trailer somewhere is a few little thin strings. I want a rope, a job, a marriage, anything solid, but I have strings that could break any minute. I want to stop being a useless leach on society and those around me.
Can I even work? Most days I have to take a nap at noon. My intelligence and social skills have decreased since FND ruined my life. And it did ruin it. I'll never be a teacher like I wanted, or even at all. I was working so hard to do something with my life, then I'm knocked on my back. I keep trying to..,
Oh Jesus, listen to me talking as if my life is over! This is what I get for being alone for days at a time. I start getting mopey.
Well I'm not going to tolerate it. My life isn't over and I'm going to try hard to get my shit together! And I'm going to start with this damned novel!
I wrote 2000 words today, and the goal is 3000 tomorrow!
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