Reluctance

So, I feel today is going to be one of those days in which I don’t move anywhere in the writing arena.  That’s a terrible thing because the likelihood of me actually getting any writing done for the rest of the weekend is very unlikely.

I don’t know. . . my motivation is still strong, but my willpower is not.  It could be because I have reached a new level of exhaustion today.  It could be because my job is becoming all too depressing to be able to deal with anything.  It could just be that I did some horrible writing yesterday and don’t want to deal with the rewrite necessary before I move forward.

I wrote approximately 5000 words yesterday.  About half of which I think were pretty darn good.  The other half. . . well, they were forced.  I should have stopped earlier, but I got cocky, methinks.  Anyways, so, had decided a while ago that I was going to have a stop off in my hometown and maybe play around with the culture here a tad.  I wanted it to be short, wasn’t really wanted to focus on it too heavily.  Unfortunately, I got kinda nervous when writing it.  I began to feel like I was trying to hard. . . in hindsight, i tended to be trying too little.

Later in the day when I spent some time thinking about what I had written, I realized I had completely forgotten many important things, not to mention that I really just glossed over the venture into this territory I know so well.  One thing I forgot was to finalize the storyline for one of the characters who was going to be getting a bit of a swan song here. . . he could be seen later, but this would really be his departure point.  I, um. . . well, I forgot to even talk about him anymore.  Introduced the fact that he was back, and then that was kinda it. . . a whole plot point forgotten about.

And, facing truths, the rest of what I wrote was just crap.  So, although I am just shy of the 45,000 mark, and finally got to a point where things don’t seem quite as impossible anymore. . . I’m going to have to go back and rewrite the last 2500 or so words I wrote, fixing the crap that I pulled out my butt yesterday.  And, honestly, I just don’t have the energy today.

So, I’m on here to say that I’m giving up at the moment.  I’m surrendering to my basic needs.  I can’t do it today.  Anything I write right now would be even more crap than what I wrote yesterday because I’m just finding it difficult to get my daily life out of my mind enough to move forward.

I’m hoping that after I get some time away from work that I may be able to put some words to paper this evening, but I’m not making any promises.   I’m exhausted, mentally and physically, and I need a rest.

I feel like I’m apologizing for this, which is weird.  First of all, no one reads this, so I’m apologizing to myself.  But, of course, the only reason I’m so worked up about this writing at all is because I just really want to get out of my current work situation.  And, of course, as was recently stated, the odds are well against me in this book actually being able to do that. . . at least anytime in the near future.

So, if anything, I should be expecting thanks from myself, as I’m giving myself a day or so off from this madness.  But I just . . . I don’t know.

I hate it.  I should be just writing and ignoring this other crap that I don’t think is worthwhile, but this stupid sense of responsibility has me thinking I need to do my due diligence to my job, even though I really could care less. . . it’s a very difficult situation, but one I realize it a good one as it means that I’ve got some sense of decency left, even if it’s wildly deteriorating where my job is concerned.

Ugh. . . I just don’t know.  I’m struggling to care about much right now, knowing how hopeless so many of my options are.  It’s not like my life is horrible.  Hell, my job itself shouldn’t be anything to complain about.  I’ve just gotten to the point where I find it difficult to deal with things that don’t matter, and my job. . . well, its redundant.  The only reason it exists is because the people in other departments who should be doing their jobs aren’t.  And they don’t do their jobs for much less pay than I don’t do mine for.

I find myself working within a broken system, one that could be run so much more efficiently if only the appropriate people were hired.  But they aren’t, so the system stays broken, because no one is even smart enough to realize that it could be fixed.  They just figure it must be the way it is.  And I hate it.  I hate knowing that what I’m doing is stupid.  It’s catching the crap that falls through the cracks that shouldn’t even need to exist. . . if only someone with some form of business sense were actually paying attention to these small details.

But, of course, they aren’t, because they’re busy making big deals with other big companies, which, in turn, gets made worse because the actual implementation part of this whole thing gets passed down to the schmoes who have no clue what they are doing.

And. . . venting.  I guess that’s what a online diary is for, isn’t it.

I’m gonna go take a nap.  Maybe I’ll feel better after that and get some writing done. . . we’ll see.

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