Nine Snowboots
Social Distancing Diaries: April 26
I was feeling pretty scattered and drained on Thursday and Friday. Part of it was everything that was going on here and in the world, part of it was the cumulative effect of several nights where I just couldn’t fall asleep quickly, even with the CPAP machine.
Doing what I can
Writing is hard.
Writing is particularly hard when you’re lost in your own head. It’s hard to get much of anything done in that state, but to have to put a coherent string of words together is particularly challenging, especially when you purport to represent your inner self in your writing.
You tell me things
Before I begin, I want to thank everyone who read my previous blog post. This was something I had wanted to write for a long time, and the most personal thing I’ve ever shared here.
It's still hard to write about feelings
I relate so much to this comic that Kelly posted a few days ago. I relate to a lot of her work, but that one really depicts so many of my current struggles.
Defaults
My draft about New York continues to grow. I'm still struggling to find the words that do the experience justice, and the motivation to lose myself in this search when there are so many other things that I want or have to do every day. Having to catch an earlier bus than I used to means that I also have to get to bed earlier, so I'm aware of the limited window I have to accomplish something, but I often find myself staying up too late when I don't feel like I managed to write that e-mail, edit those pictures, work on the blog post, or even read the book or watch that movie or TV show that I've been wanting to forever.
So much for weekly posts
I said I was going to aim for new content every Tuesday, but of course, when you miss one week, then another, and another... I thought the idea of forcing myself to do a weekly post was the discipline I needed to force myself to write, but for the most part my focus has been on a couple of different things I have on my plate: work, photography, my cat, the New York trip, and the business of trying to keep a semblance of responsible adulthood.
Doing It Wrong
For the last few months, I've been a strange combination of busy and mentally blocked. In the summer and fall, I was concentrating on my work for my contract position (which has since ended) while doing a few portrait shoots in my free time, plus a few informal events. I always forget about how time-intensive the editing process is, though, and the combination of an aging computer, general mental fog after work, and a cat that repeatedly jumps on my keyboard means there's sometimes a long delay before I get the shots ready for other eyes to look at.