Most mornings start with just trying to wake up and get motivated enough to start the day. Today, I woke up shortly before I needed to go to my weekly allergy shot appointment. I got showered, made a coffee, and then let my dog out. My dad was working in his shop, but he was talking with someone, and rather than go pee for the morning, Penny decided to bark at these people she didn’t know and make herself a general pain in the ass. I didn’t have enough time to deal with this, and this was the first moment she demonstrated that she doesn’t think she needs to listen. She pulled this kind of thing a couple more times today, and spent time in her crate as a result. She also ate the rest of the bathtub plug. She’s been a royal cow today.
Anyway, I struggled for most of the afternoon to get the motivation to either do some paid writing or work on my book. I came up with a big goosegg for motivation. At some point, I put together some samples I got for a website shop I am building for someone and photographed over a hundred shots of product. The pictures turned out great! I was surprised at how well they turned out. But the experience of positioning, staging, and shooting was also pretty exhausting. As I was sorting pictures, I ate a whole bag of Haribo gummies and wound up taking a long nap. I slept so hard I dreamt and it was hard to wake myself up for the rest of my day.
Though this sounds productive, it didn’t feel like it. I have dishes stacking up in my kitchen and no motivation to wash them. Without dishes, cooking is a pain, so that’s why I had gummies for dinner. Later, I ate some roast beef and cheese with mustard. Nothing else even sounds good.
Lately I feel like I am drifting. Some days I feel like I am failing. I know there are plenty of things I need to do (like the dishes) but days like today, it’s all I can do to do things. Taking pictures was a creative outlet, and it felt good once I saw the proofs after I downloaded them. But up until then, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell I was doing. I submitted edits last night for a paid post and also another post. I’m hoping they sell. I get tired of submitting stuff only to have it ignored for weeks and weeks.
Today was one of those days I feel like I came up here only to be forgotten. I don’t have many friends anymore. Sure, I talk to people in town I encounter, but for the most part I feel anti-social. I don’t have a lot to look forward to, and since money is tight, I just don’t make any plans to go anywhere and cure this wanderlust right now. I’m working for other people right now, (other financial obligations), and have to dedicate my resources to that. Without any hope or end in sight. Just another reason I want to shout at people who talk about absentee fathers when they discuss family law. Some of us work our guts out for children we never get to see, or worse yet, children who have been conditioned to hate us or fear us. But we still have to pay. As though trying to bring life into this world is an unforgiveable sin we have to atone for.
Just a few years ago, I had little things to keep me motivated. Little trips up to someone’s cabin, a hot tub weekend under the stars, hiking, road trips, adventures, weekends with my girlfriend, and even a grand road trip to meet someone I had gotten to know very well over the years. With gas prices nowadays, my stunted income, and being so isolated right now, I don’t have a lot to keep me looking forward to making plans. It’s halfway through May, and I can already see the summer barreling past, back into Winter, and then Spring.
My friends keep telling myself to be nicer to myself–and I’ve told them that plenty of times too–but it’s less beating myself up and just being apathetic. Like I hit the high-water mark of my life somehow and it wasn’t all that great. Right now, I’m just drifting. Getting by. I’m tired of just getting by, but some days it is like pulling teeth to find the energy to get that extra hussle that would put me over.
I spent twenty years in a workforce that gave me no skills. I just became more efficient at stuff I already knew how to do. I marvel at twenty-somethings who can fly airplanes or build things. They honed skills. I wrote. Though I am making some money from it, I lack marketing skills, I want to be able to do other things too, and just feel like a shitty marriage and a dead end job left me at the bottom of the hill again. I get so tired, trying to push up that hill.
Tonight, I make coffee at 10pm and started work on the next book. I got a good scene down and I wrote down the story and a sorta plot. Yeah, I know I complained I didn’t get good at anything over the last twenty years. Writing is different. You can be good at it, but some of the best writers in the world probably have books rotting on their hard drives that will never be published. It’s hard out there. The state of publishing right now is ridiculous. Everything has gotten so niche that nobody will probably take a chance on the stories I write.
Self-publish, you say? I tried that. I made $150 on my first book. Over the last eight years. It’s rough. Sometimes I feel like my whole life is shadowbanned.
Anyway, I’ll keep writing because it’s all I’m good at, and all I really have going for me right now. For now, anyway.