Honestly, I don't want to write. Well, I do, but I'd like to feel motivated, instead of the awful sleepy-hollow brain fog I have going on. Did I eat too many sweets, too much sugar? Not any more than usual. I'm looking at my cycle. I am hitting Day 7 pre-period. TMI? Nonetheless, it's a factor I have to consider. Day 7 can certainly lead to this type of decline in being able to muster strong enough willpower to overcome the lack of motivation to do anything.
Thank GOD I am meeting with a friend at 2:00 pm today. That plan managed to get me out of the house. Oh, the house that isn't mine, even. Right. Circumstances are that I'm still bouncing around from place to place. No. I am not a victim to this displacement. I chose to move out of my apartment last September (nearly a year ago). Also, there are FOR RENT signs all over Los Angeles. I could seek, find, apply for an apartment thereby having a place to call my own-- if I was so motivated. It appears I am not.
Sometimes I wonder if this destabilizing, non-desire to create, exercise, research jobs for earning is coming from not having my own place. I don't have money to, plainly said: Fuck off with. I don't. I'm down to $80.00 or so dollars in my checking account, and I just pulled some from savings to pay my past-due health insurance premium for the month. Then there's that buggerly little parking ticket for not remembering Tuesday is street cleaning day.
My mind keeps telling me, "You committed to writing every day for thirty days. Remember, Rachel? You were going to bust through that wall of yours that is blocking you from succeeding in the 'thing' you want to succeed in. Remember? So, as a tool, you committed to doing the writing. For a while that sure went well. What was it? A week and a half? And now? GET TO IT!"
"I tried," I say to my mind and then to willpower, "Please, do something. Don't just sit there looking at me like that." After all, this morning I made the effort to sit down at my computer and open the script I've been working on. And nothing happened, as if forces were working against something happening. Instead, I started thinking: Wow. What am I doing this for? Should I be working on my novel? Should I self-publish? Shouldn't I keep trying to send out queries to agents? There's no way I would have the energy it would take to self-publish. And then there's the cost. I'm sure it costs something-- way more than the $80 I have. And I surely couldn't use my 401K money. Surely not.
I was struck with how exhausted I felt. How insanely sleepy I was becoming.
I was struck with how exhausted I felt. How insanely sleepy I was becoming.
But the thoughts kept pouring out, like from a broken spicket: I would need to pay someone to edit it. Another cost I cannot afford. I mean, I should be sending more queries. How many did I sent out last week? One? And she just wrote me back this morning with the usual, "We don't think this project is right for us," so that is a "No."
I did receive emails from two women regarding self-publishing, who have been published. I need to follow up with them. The fact that they are both corresponding with me feels like some support from the universe.
I just don't see myself as one of those, I'll do what I have to at all cost to make something happen, kind of person. I'm not. The phrase "surrender to win" is so ingrained in me. I figure, Why fight it? I don't have that strong sense that I know what I'm doing or where I'm supposed to go. What if I'm not such a hot writer with not such a hot novel/story to tell? What if, after all, people won't enjoy reading it. What if the universe wants my attention somewhere else...you know, like getting a job?
Or, what if it's not meant to be a novel and instead needs to be rewritten as a screenplay? Should I get busy working on that, in place of this other script that I've been working on, more for my friend than for me? So, is that why I can't seem to consistently motivate myself to turn back to page 56 of Shotguns and Halter Tops and get those darn-it-all twenty-something's set up in Miami (the current scene).
I had such momentum on Friday, that I literally thought to myself, "What if I stayed in ALL weekend and just wrote and wrote and worked to finish this thing?" I thought that. And I did get to stay in mostly all weekend. My friends had other plans. I had two days of alone time, which is almost unheard of for me and usually something I avoid. I thought that is what I wanted, but when it was here and went on for two days, I was stunned thinking, there's no way. Not for me. I'm bored out of my mind.
I lost the desire to go exercise, because it's just another activity to do by myself. Not in the mood! I'm bored with everything before me, because who does it involve? Me and my brain. My lovely brain that is swimming with IDEAS, so much that it is overloaded with them, and a willpower that has completely shut off. It is a valve that has been closed.
I am supposed to make something happen! I am supposed to get moving! My circumstances are SCREAMING at me to not let this scary no money, no home, no-productivity-to-no-success thing happen. And my willpower says, I'm out!
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by Rachel Drews, 2013. All rights reserved. Any excerpts reproduced
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