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A Weary Mind
Feb. 5th, 2023 12:34 pmI saw a post online about how today marks the conclusion of the ten darkest weeks of the year. Todd has been adamant that I will feel better and calmer once the dark has lifted and it starts getting warmer, but I think that is more reflective of him than me. (Then again, other times I think we are flip-sides of the same person anyhow, so who knows.)
I've really been feeling overwhelmed with my vast To Do List, which is its own thing, and then the other things that just keep getting thrown at me, which on the one hand is a kind of recognition of my sense and stability and on the other hand is a realism of one of the few people around. (One of my most irritating coworkers has managed to convince our boss to approve her remote work through March, where she has been since mid-December, to "help" her sister in Florida who broke her leg. Which, well played, to arrange to spend the depths of winter elsewhere.)
I've been writing lots of poetry, though I am too close to it to feel truly pleased with any of it. I'd really like to go back to writing fiction, but my headspace just isn't there: to construct dialogue, people, descriptions, even though I can see the story in my mind, and I know it's a good story with lots of potential. But the difficulty of getting it down!! I wrote a summary in my paper journal.
And then the familiar agony, the fear of telling too much. (Todd again: "Anyone outside of your most intimate circle won't know the circumstances you're writing about" and thus would be unable to judge.) It's an argument for sticking to literary/media criticism, which is my bread and butter anyhow.
I've really been feeling overwhelmed with my vast To Do List, which is its own thing, and then the other things that just keep getting thrown at me, which on the one hand is a kind of recognition of my sense and stability and on the other hand is a realism of one of the few people around. (One of my most irritating coworkers has managed to convince our boss to approve her remote work through March, where she has been since mid-December, to "help" her sister in Florida who broke her leg. Which, well played, to arrange to spend the depths of winter elsewhere.)
I've been writing lots of poetry, though I am too close to it to feel truly pleased with any of it. I'd really like to go back to writing fiction, but my headspace just isn't there: to construct dialogue, people, descriptions, even though I can see the story in my mind, and I know it's a good story with lots of potential. But the difficulty of getting it down!! I wrote a summary in my paper journal.
And then the familiar agony, the fear of telling too much. (Todd again: "Anyone outside of your most intimate circle won't know the circumstances you're writing about" and thus would be unable to judge.) It's an argument for sticking to literary/media criticism, which is my bread and butter anyhow.
