well, that was an unintentional sabbatical. it donned on me today that not only is it Thursday (eep! where did the week go?), but that i haven't written anything in about 4 or 5 days. not just here, either - my paper journal has been sitting on the floor next to my desk at home, gathering kitty fur and dust.
i hadn't really planned on this, to tell you the truth. but i think i needed the break. you know when your stomach is upset, and it craves the Double Whopper, which makes no sense, but you pay attention to what your stomach is saying, and the Double Whopper tastes good, and your tummy is happy again? sort of like that.
the timing was sort of odd, because it just donned on me last week that i'm starting to think of myself as a writer. someone had asked me what i had said to someone else, and i answered that i didn't know, but i was probably telling stories. because that's what i do - i tell stories. i tell them for myself, for you, to entertain, to ruminate, to document, to investigate, at least in the written word. if i'm talking, then i tell stories mostly to entertain.
and it really hit me. hadn't thought about it much; those were just the words that popped out of my mouth. i tell stories. to me, that's the definition of a writer, someone who tells stories.
of course, the world being what it is, as soon as i said that to myself (over and over, like some sort of mantra), all my words dried up. it's been the fucking Sahara in my head lately. this bothered me. part of being a writer is finding the discipline to write something every damn day, be it a shitty first draft or the perfect paragraph. and as soon as i find myself thinking about me as a writer, i lose the motivation and discipline. dandy, eh?
and yet, maybe it's just the way things needed to be. i've done very little the last few days. i've gone to work, i've gone to work some more, i've wallowed in depression, i've slept a lot, and i've watched some really bad TV. and it's felt nice to let go. well, okay. the depression part has felt pretty crappy. but giving myself permission to take a few days off has been nice. it's given me a little breathing room to just walk around, see things, file them away, and walk around some more. no need to fine tune the words, or search for the right image, just soaking things in.
life has kept right on happening; funny, somehow i thought if i didn't write it all down, it would disappear. but no...
Job Number One is as insane as ever. projects are wearing on nerves, and people are yelling more than ever. mostly, they don't. but there have been a few shining exceptions. well, one. i've had run-ins with this one before. i've gone to his manager before. nothing's changed. he landed in my cube yesterday, spewing and shouting, then lying baldfaced to his manager and mine about what he said. i was afraid i'd feed right into it, and lose my temper again (which has been a problem for me lately). but i didn't, thankfully. didn't make him any less of an asshole. but at least i didn't join the club.
note to self: you *really* need to write your resumè. soon, chica. i mean it. get it done. you need a change of water. or a complete blood change. do it.
Job Number Two has at least gotten back to some semblance of normal. mr. p and i appear to have reached some sort of detente, so things are less strained. and the last show was stunning. G3 - John Petrucci, Steve Vai and Joe Satriani. apparently, i'm a rocker chick at heart, 'cuz this just rocked my world. ;) when they came out to jam at the end and kicked into a Hendrix song? aw, yeah, baby. all good. three guys trading off leads on the axe, and *two* bass players romping around - whee! and Vai was such a diva - he's got long, baby fine hair that he wore down, and had them place a tornado fan right on the edge of the stage, so he'd have Good Rock Hair. made me laugh. in truth, i've always been a bit of a rocker chick. for a long while, i only dated bass players, with the occasional guitar guy thrown in for good measure. just because.
the depression... yeah. well. erm. i've been rocketing around, emotionally, and i can see the signs. no neutral ground - very very happy, or very very sad, or very very angry. some self destructive behaviors are kicking in, notably in the drinking arena. i generally don't give a crap about my work these days, but i still have all those high standards, so not giving a crap makes me feel incompentent, which makes me want to run away, which means my work isn't as good... you get the picture. and i'm just pulling in. i'm finding i don't have much energy to do even those things that i care about. instead, i put in a solid 7 or 8 hours playing Solitaire 'til Dawn.
the upside of having dealt with depression before (if there can be one) is that i'm seeing all the signs more clearly and earlier than before. what i need to do is call my therapist, and make appointments to start seeing her again, before i start the truly downward spiral. that's a dark place i don't want to revisit.
okay, so this is all a bit disjointed. but hey, at least i'm writing, and that's good. i have a feeling there's a second entry for today on the way... we'll see.