I may have mentioned I was a flight attendant once. Back in the mid 90s we didn’t have smartphones or social media, so I don’t have access to photos that I want to use for one of my anthologies I’m working on.
The week leading up to Christmas had me feeling low and borderline depressed. This is pretty standard for me this time of year, and was augmented by the prevailing lockdown. I tried to keep my head above water but failed. There is a metaphorical abyss in my life that has a life of its own. For one thing, it moves. It follows me around. 😬
So. I have bad news about some pieces I submitted. But, that’s ok. I’m going to get myself a long nail and a hammer, so I can start a collection of rejections. Like Stephen King did. He mentioned this in his book On Writing.
So far, 2 of my stories I wrote recently were declined, the other 5 still being reviewed, and the rest ongoing.
Disclaimer: I’m feeling sorry for myself. Don’t be rude or obnoxious in the comments, I’ll block you. None of my self-absorbedness in this post means I’m not anxious or active in other, more important things going on in my family, community and beyond. This post isn’t a tally of what I do for others; I don’t feel like justifying myself to anyone today. This is my blog and today, this is what flows out of my head and into my keyboard. Sorry not sorry.
Some days I feel like I’m living inside a bubble.
I don’t mean to imply the bubble is an isolated, lonely entity of solitude, because there isn’t much of that despite still staying home most of the time. I just mean the lack of external obligations has me more isolated than usual, and for longer than usual. Continue reading “Living in a bubble”
Earlier today I texted a friend that I had a list and I was going to be productive and get things done. After all, it was raining, gloomy and cold; what better time to stay indoors and get some chores tackled?
My friend checked in with me a few hours later assuming, incorrectly, that I had accomplished at least some of the tasks.
The Canadian Forces Snowbirds never made it down to my ‘hood. According to the twitter feed that tracks these things, they turned somewhere around the iconic CN Tower downtown, which is east of my little SW corner neighbourhood, and then headed north.
I hung a bath mat over a railing. . . . . I also wrote 60-gazillion words into this blog and deleted them all. Then I turned on the electric blanket and went to bed at 7:30 pm. It’s now 7:32 pm. Everything is stupid. The end. Continue reading Today