The Opening Of The Mouth
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"Writing is like walking out to the parking lot, opening your car door, putting your head inside, and then slamming the door. And you know what? You realize, as you're doing it, that you have to get up and do the same thing tomorrow. And it's going to hurt like hell." --John Dahl|
Friday, Mar. 11, 2005 - 3:18 PM
Well. This place really is suffering, isn't it? (Though, God knows, the consistent impossibility of posting over the last two days hasn't helped...)
Fact is, due to Steve's request that I put my intimate thoughts somewhere he can't find them, I have another diary now. A livejournal. And I'm really beginning to wonder if I need both, or whether it wouldn't be easier to simply start up a third diary, also on LJ, to which I can post nothing but "business-related" stuff.
Cal was screamy again today, and I "had" to let him blow himself out--possibly not "had" to, really. But he's so damn strong these days, I've begun to think that trying to restrain him personally simply gets him crazier and invites injury to us both.
So now it's a half-hour alter, after maybe forty minutes of sustained sobbing and screeching. Does this get easier? I have to wonder. Because it hurts a lot if I let it, and probably does more damage if I don't.
Well, shit, though: Why do I even bother to think of myself as a writer at all, these days? I'm a mother now, and that's all I'll ever be 'till the day I die--no room for much else, unless I kick my own ass and learn to write by a stopwatch. And while it's not like anybody held a fucking gun to my head, exactly, is IS just a little bit depressing to realize that I threw the career I spent twenty years pursuing out the window with both hands. Yup. But there you are.
Okay, all: You may hear back from me, you may not. I'll leave an URL if and when I close this out.
I'd say "It's been fun", but I can't really remember if that's true.
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