Frustration, Smiles

Where’s my novel? Where’s all my greatness?
I’m so frustrated right now.
I want to write music without sound.
I’m annoyed I’m not writing or doing more.
I’m annoyed I can’t decide what more I want to do and practically can accomplish.
I’m annoyed I’m not satisfied with the things I do accomplish.
I need a project I feel good about.
Something that feels worthy.
Something tangible and challenging yet manageable.
All my albatrosses feel pointless. I want to knit or build or even pick up a normal boring-person hourly-waged job so I can checkmark success in more than repetitive motion.
I just want something to show for myself, but every minute of every day—a prolific portfolio of lifetime achievement.
I’m the only one who can make these things happen. But I have to pin them down as more than theoretical feelings and goals. I need practical steps and to do lists or I stay aimlessly wandering around the house looking for my sense of satisfaction and throwing temper-tantrums inside myself.

Writing something is a good step. My writing has gotten rusty. Keep it fresh and practiced so when there’s something to say, it sounds how I want it to sing. That’s pretentious as hell but true, so not the pretending part of pretentious, just the annoying part.

Too much computer time lately. It makes me crazy. Buying season starts now and I can start that fun part of things again if I relax about my financial situation. Let myself be happy again. I’m cranky slipping and at least I’m catching myself while it’s still just slippage.

A business requires building. It requires learning and figuring out and I haven’t been doing this so long. Days like today are frustrating because I suddenly am so capable doing so much and I don’t have sufficiently varied activities to keep myself entertained when I’ve done by noon what often takes me an entire day to accomplish.

Now what?
Violin or finish the knit gloves. Those are good. And get all my to-file papers in one place even if I don’t start filing them. And shower. That’s a good tangible checklist for this afternoon. If I can stand getting back on the computer and editing more photos, so much the better, but I don’t expect that to be in my tolerable zone in the next few hours.

Writing is grand.

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Romance always makes a juicier update than the cerebral shit I can't help but spew:

Corvus is great. We still seem to think the world of one another. We spend huge quantities of time together. My dog specifically requests to be pet by him, then randomly freaks out and barks and snaps when Corvus laughs or stands too suddenly, and Corvus still likes my dog. Likes me, too. Has an insanely healthy view of the world and relationships and surprises me over and over again with yet another high-quality layer of himself.
My only complaint: he reminds me too much of myself, so the days I am particularly annoyed with myself I end up defaulting to annoyed with him for no reason. There was an episode of 30 Rock called "Double-Edged Sword" and I think of it every time I'm in self-hate-and-therefore mode. But, at least in Relationshipland, I'm learning to be a grown-up and it's all tremendously healthy and good and I'm just looking for something to complain about because it's easier and less-corny-sounding than all the perfectly content smiley swellness that makes up 98% of things. Tomorrow, we may go to the zoo.