A few weeks ago I loaded a dirty coffee mug into the dishwasher and my mother and I essentially haven't spoken since. She wanted to reuse the coffee mug. In the past, my mother's silent treatments have made me both intolerably angry and anxious, but this time I have simply gone about my life. Readers of this blog (the few of you) should note that my mom and I share a rather close space - I live with her in a one-bedroom apartment (I take the couch).
For some reason, I don't know why, I have thus far refused to purchase either toilet paper or paper towels, the latter of which comes in handy when toilet paper has run out. Indeed, this evening, both the toilet paper and paper towels had run out. What to do? Cotton balls. Yes, my friends, cotton balls.
As I posted yesterday, today I did go to my writer's group meeting, and it was well worth getting up and forcing myself into functioning through the Seroquel haze before 10 am. There is something about the energy of being a part of a critique gathering for a writer's group that feeds your desire to write and makes you at least a little bit more likely to do it, to write. I took M's suggestion today and brought my laptop to the library (I had a book to turn in and a book to re-check) to write. I spent about an hour, part of it was reading back over some stuff, but I would say I spent most of it actually typing out more words, putting more ideas on the screen. I'm close to 15,000 words! which feels great and is even more incentive to continue. Thanks, M.
Today was raining and nasty, I usually don't mind the rain as long as I am curled up in a cozy situation, not out doing errands in it, getting in and out of the car, feeling perputually damp and humid and foggy.