I admit I’ve been struggling lately with my life, mainly my facial pressure and headaches, not to mention the ringing in my ears. Why I’ve been blowing my nose for two months straight now without having a major cold or flu is beyond me. It’s irritating to say the least. My arthritis is acting up and I’m still waiting to see my ENT for get results on my medical issues from last year. Enough of this particular bitch fest.
There are still things I thought I had processed, gotten over, thrown away in the mental garbage only to come back full force. I don’t understand why people can’t see certain things right in front of their faces. Can’t we do better than fighting among each other politically? Can’t we do better than having Trump in the White House? I mean this is all seriousness. I spent last Saturday standing in line to vote for who I want to be the Democratic nominee in the upcoming Presidential election.
While three hours seemed like six hours, I was willing to stand in line to vote early. I’ve never taken part in a caucus and nor do I want to be in one. I will vote for whomever is nominated by the people, but if s/he loses, there will be hell to pay and not just from her or his passionate believers. It will be from all Democrats and everyone else who changed party lines to defeat Donald Trump in November. There is no illusion in me that his passionate believers are just as passionate as Bernie Sanders. I sometimes wish it was already November so I could get on with my life.
It’s been a little nerve racking and I’ve found it hard to do such things as reading, coloring, writing, and exercising. My roommate finally started reading my first novel idea and already has given suggestions but this is only for the first chapter. I made a face when he said some parts went by too quickly and others needed more description. I thought back to how I had taken out some description as I thought I added too much in. I’m a little miffed at the task of rewriting this whole thing again, but I want to publish it so I need to to do it. I’m also a little miffed I’m not churning out my second novel idea as quickly as I’d like and how quickly the year is moving. Like my roommate said, this is what writing is all about and don’t rush something that isn’t ready.
I really hope to get back into my groove again, but I’m finding it hard to find the motivation. I feel like I’m in a deep frustrating slump. I find myself protesting the things that would help me. I feel entitled to sit on my ass since everything on my body seems to be working against me right now. I keep saying every Sunday, tomorrow is the day to get more routine in my life I used to have. But then I think, I didn’t this mountain of crap going on physically back then and my brain seems to be have changed. When can I retire? Oh yeah, that’s right, not for a long time.