Wednesday,
March 23, 2005
I seem to be enduring a touch of enuii
Or however it is you spell that. It's not so much depression as a spell of the blahs -- I know I have lots of stuff to do (call the CPA to get the taxes started, clean the house, finish off some stories, edit the first chapters of a novel so that they coordinate with the rest of the (new) plot, etcetera etcetera). But it takes a blasting cap to get me to do anything -- all I want to do is drift, dream, read other people's journals and listen to music.
Of course, that may have something to do with the fact that I've been traveling for the last two weekends and haven't really had any down time for a couple of weeks. I have a three-day weekend coming up -- if I could turn it into a complete week, that would be truly sweet. Barring that, however, I suppose I'll suck it up and be grateful for an extra Friday off. What would make it even better is a full 8-10 hours of sleep where a bonehead tuxedo cat doesn't keep waking me up (MY cat sleeps on a comfy poof at the side of the bed -- HIS cat, however, treats me as a human-shaped cushion. Hmmph), and I wake up refreshed instead of cramped and achy (from unconsciously trying to avoid hitting said cat).
I also wound up turning down some contract work because I remember doing it last year and tearing my hair out from the stress. The extra money would've been nice, but I'd much rather spend this summer writing instead of trying to keep two clients happy. That's reasonable, isn't it?
