“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it’s yours.”
― Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
When I have books published, please, PLEASE, please remind me of this post if any of the characters in any of my books are bright and inspiring and acting like they have the secret to a good life all figured out because, trust me, there are multiple quotes out there by characters who do just this and it makes me want to scream. Hashtag inspiring because, you know, our lives are so perfectly predictable and linear and make complete sense so we need the brilliant little nuggets from brilliant little nuggets who have it all so perfectly figured out, slotted into pegs, with futures writing fortune cookie messages for people who will magically read them and bugger off into the sunset with it all suddenly making sense once and for all – yeah – no.
No.
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I’m grumpy because I’m under the weather, and I’m sad at the same time because depression does not play nice. So I am sad and grumpy; I have these days sometimes. I think I’m a rather quiet grump; I just lock myself away with ice cream and vodka until I feel better, but vodka (any alcohol, really) is a no-no for me when I’m down in the dumps because it just makes everything a lot worse. So just the ice cream then, thank you.
I wish I did feel better all ’round because then I could just be myself again; I miss me when I get like this. The worst part of being alone is that there’s nobody in your immediate vicinity to take you out of yourself; there’s nobody to snuggle up to on the couch on Wednesday evening just because. My cats do their best, but until they learn to speak English or I learn to speak Cat this conversation is not going to go anywhere. Still, their quiet companionship is wonderful and I am grateful for them.
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Amy bought me a little desk for a birthday present and it arrived this week, complete with two people to set it up for me. She also bought me an external keyboard that I’m currently using to write this post – from my bed. This keyboard is going to change my life.
It’s the not-so-small things.
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Speaking of not-so-small things, I just booked a holiday in May, and I’m dreaming of it. Do you lot realise I haven’t been on holiday in six years? (I realise it’s shocking, but it’s true.) Anyway, that’s not the point. I am going to be escaping the summer heat in May for 20 glorious days and retiring to the mountains. THE MOUNTAINS, GANDALF.
Ahem. Sorry.
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There’s so much I should probably update you all with, but it’s mundane. Some of it is not, but most of it is. Mundane. Necessary. Not particularly riveting. I’m fairly sure none of you will want to actually read about it. It’s funny; I don’t think any of us are necessarily mediocre or that we live mediocre lives. But each of our lives have so many periods of mediocrity and in a way I think that is incredibly necessary. I think it’s the mediocrity, the boring sameness of things that keep us going from one moment to the next. Those are the ordinary moments, by and large, that make up an extraordinary life.
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I’m really glad so many of you seem to love my blatherings enough to read my site several times a week, but I’d really appreciate comments; I like knowing what you’re thinking about, and I’d love to read what you have to say. (I sometimes feel like I just come here and talk to myself once a week and although my stats show me that’s simply not true, I’d love to hear what you think, even if you just want to say hi). I write for me, but I write for you too.
And of course, if you’d like to, you can support me in a very real way by clicking on the support me button up there and tossing a couple of bucks my way; it makes a world of difference to me, and you can be happy in the knowledge that you helped me write my novel (because you will be helping, trust me).
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There’s still so much to say. C’est la vie.
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