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Giving it another try

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Giving it another try to get my 3 pages in this morning. I will be taking the 8:24 am bus because it is now 7:11 am and I definitely wouldn’t have written 3 pages (3 paragraphs) in 3 minutes. It’s now 7:12 am and to get the 7:55 am bus, I would have to jump in the shower in the next 3 minutes, get dressed by 7:40 am and leave the house by 7:45a.

Very grateful that I can take the 824a bus and get to work relatively on time. I still have work to finish for Sam. I have to finish my 4 questions from our Deep Dive Day a week ago Saturday.
I had all weekend to do it because I stayed home, but…I ended up watching TV all weekend.
I did a “Rules of Engagement” binge. I got stuck (I’m using a word I’m not supposed to use) watching this show and even when I questioned why I was watching it, another funny moment would happen and I would get distracted from myself and continue watching it.

I haven’t finished much of the other work I was supposed to do either. I have, however, started revealing some things I keep hidden. I told Brenna about the litter boxes and I told Betty about the dished in the sink and in the bedroom. I’m recognizing that sharing this info is making me uncomfortable. I’m also recognizing an intense need to explain why I do that. The explanation is my effort to make myself comfortable. If I explain it, then I don’t have to feel bad or uncomfortable which would negate the purpose of the exercise.

So, for that reason alone, it’s successful so far. In fact, writing this just now, I want very much to stop writing this journal entry because I’m uncomfortable and stopping would allow me to de-connect from this feeling. The purpose of the exercise is to become more comfortable with being uncomfortable. To be able to be in the bad feeling place without giving into the need to get comfortable. I am not looking to be comfortable with bad feelings.

Bad feelings are bad feelings. But…they have a purpose just like good feelings or any other feelings I might have. The purpose is to recognize that I am having these feelings. And having these feelings is just as important as having any other feelings. OK, I’ve just check out by going into intellectual explanation. Point for me for realizing that I’m using my writing to get away from feeling uncomfortable about writing about being uncomfortable with my feelings. I can do this all day. Now, if I want to stop, I can because I have exposed both feeling uncomfortable and attempting to get away from that discomfort.

It’s 7:04 am in the morning

It’s 7:04 am in the morning


It’s 7:04 am in the morning and I’m sitting down at the computer, ready to write this morning’s journal entry.


There is nothing to write about.
There is nothing to write about.
There is nothing to write about.

This is what I write when I can’t think of anything. What usually happens is by the 3rd or 4th sentence, something slides into my head and I can move forward.

I’m going to end up taking the late bus today. I woke up at 6 with the alarm after going to bed early, so I must have needed the sleep. Jackie, my cat, has already settled down for her 1st nap of the day. And I’m sitting here writing anything that pops into my head because that’s what I do in the morning.

Write something, anything. I did however forget to write on Saturday morning. That kinda bothers me because I’ve been pretty good about this so far. I almost can say that I enjoy doing this.

Almost. Not quite. Because I think if I really enjoyed it I wouldn’t have any difficulty doing it.

OK, that’s a load of bullshit. Even professional writers have empty days sometimes. What makes them professional is that they don’t let empty days determine their worth or their output.

They just take them in stride and move forward. Especially if they already have something started. My understanding is that a character, once formed, starts to direct the writing, the writer doesn’t. He or she just follows where the character wants to go. I wonder what the first writer who realized this thought about it.

When did it first occur? Yes, I know that fiction writing isn’t as old as writing in general. Or maybe that’s not true. Maybe all writing is a type of fiction and what makes it non-fiction is how much isn’t made up. How much is the re-telling of events that actually occurred, but…it’s a re-telling which means that even if you’re the person who is writing about yourself, there is still some adjustment. The re-telling has to go through the filter of your memory which may or may not be accurate. Does accuracy require 1 person, 2 people or 3 people, whose stories are sufficiently the same so that you can say that that event actually occurred because more than 1 person remembers it the same way?

What is accuracy in the re-telling of an event? Or a memory? Or anything else someone wants to write about. Other than saying the sky is blue and the grass is green, can anything be related with any accuracy at all? Will I remember writing this when I re-read it in a few months?

Will I remember what my point was?


Will anything be the same ever again?