Oh. Someone’s. God.
I think I have bitten off way more than I can chew with this Journaling June thing. The Prelude post was easy enough, but the Closet Writer . . .
Fuck me!
That monster took over 6 hours. I told Vicky, my wife, that I don’t think I can do this.
“Why,” she asked perfunctorily, refusing to look up from her iPad and whatever story she was watching.
“Because I can’t get anything else done.”
She sighed, through her nose. I think to hide it from me. Or maybe she did it because it was an extra snotty way to jab me with her barbs.
Damn it! Everyday isn’t Saturday. I didn’t have to work so a 6 hour project was okay. But Monday – Friday I do have a job that eats up 8 hours of my day, and a commute that eats up at least an hour, and too damned many chores that eat up few more hours. I don’t have 6 hours to spare most days.
(ugh. we don’t need 6 hours for every post. everything we write isn’t a 1300+ monster. we’re just making excuses. scary noises to freak ourself out. quit. calm down. we got this.)
I hope so. I really don’t want to screw this up and fail. Not this early in the game.
I will say this. It’s weird that the roles have reversed here. That is, you, Smaeryk (portmanteau: small + Aeryk), used to be the voice of doom and gloom. Now I am.
(well, thing is, both of “us” are really just one person, so technically nothing has changed. we’ve just found a new way to play with it. and we’re doing it for everyone to see. that’s probably more alarming than failing to post a stream of consciousness journal entry. but whatever.)
Hmmm. Never thought about that. Maybe I’ll worry about that for a little while instead. Or go watch some reruns of Deep Space 9.
Yeah. Definitely Deep Space 9 reruns.
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