I did it. I registered for ECE at the community college. I’m not matriculated just yet (because I’m a readmit and apparently there’s a specific period when they rematriculate readmitting students), but I submitted my readmission application, got my letter from the college saying they’ve received my FAFSA, and did all of this without having an anxiety attack of, “I CAN’T DECIDE, I CAN’T COMMIT.”
I did it.
And, I’m excited about it.
I’ll be able to register for my classes soon and then buy my books, and then I’ll officially be an ECE student. Last night as I was falling asleep, I thought, I’m going to get to teach kids how to talk! and that was the most exciting thing. The only thing that sucks is, I have to wait until January to start. It’s going to be 2012 before I’m officially in school again. That’s kind of a weird thought, even though it’s not actually so far away.
It’s probably a good thing, though, because I have plenty of time to get everything else in order. I’m looking for a second job, at least for during the holiday season. The one I have is only giving me an average of fifteen hours a week, which is nothing; every Friday, I pay a couple bills, and then I’m broke again. I have no extra money for gas or doctors’ copays, or vitamins, or anything. I keep asking for more hours, and they say more are coming or that they’re going to cross-train me in another department so I’ll have more hours that way, but so far, nothing. I’m only making $100-135 a week. If I were still a teenager, that’d be cool, but not so much now. I work my ass off at my job, and my manager — who is also human resources — is always commenting on how hard I work and how well kept the registers always are when I’m working, so you’d think I’d have cross-trained already or they’d at least through me another five hours a week, but no.
I’m not going to talk about that anymore, though, because it just frustrates me.
I’m still trying to come up with an idea for NaNoWriMo. Nothing appeals to me. At this rate, I might just use the time to finish Secondhand Mom instead of starting anything new. I don’t know, though; I hate the idea of not doing NaNoWriMo this year. I also hate that I keep talking and thinking about finishing Secondhand Mom, when all I have to do is just do it.
I bought a four-pack of Play Doh, because who said you have to be a kid to have fun? I haven’t opened it yet, though.
Speaking of fun, I discovered that my laptop has Windows Movie Maker on it, so I’m trying to come up with an idea for a video. I’m so glad I didn’t buy any video editing software. Someone told me I should have Windows Movie Maker but I couldn’t find it, so I’ve had my eye on some Sony video editing software for a while. I stumbled upon WMM the other day while digging through the Accessories section looking for I don’t even know what. Thanks for hiding that, Microsoft.
Maybe I’ll make a stop motion movie using my Play Doh.
The mystery rash has returned! I had a feeling it was coming back, since my chin started itching again Friday, but I was kind of hoping it was just an itch, you know?
At least the joint pain and constipation are under control. Sigh.
Anyway, I’m almost done with Sade On the Wall. I’m also going to win NaNoWriMo, since I’m only about 3,000 words away from the goal (which is 50,000 words, for those of you new to NNWM). This will be a first for me; the first year I did NNWM, 2005, I finished my novel (The Praying Mantis Experiment), but was about 100 words off from 50k. The novel also sucks, big time. I finished NNWM in 2007 and 2009, but to this day haven’t finished either of those novels (The Cure Program and Secondhand Mom, respectively).
I’m so excited. I have mixed feelings about finishing the novel itself, though; in one way, I can’t wait to get to the end, to say I did it, but I’m also sad because… it’s over. Maybe that’s why I have such a hard time finishing novels — the over part. At least with “Sade” I have a sequel planned. I’m thinking of writing all of her journals throughout high school. I won’t say anymore, because I don’t want to give away the ending — I’ve known for a couple of months how it is going to end — but there will definitely be more.
Besides, I can’t let my awesome readers down! I am truly grateful for everyone who’s been reading. It feels amazing to have a group of people other than me waiting for each chapter, begging me for the next, feeling everything I feel as I write. I guess it’s how Stephen King or Maureen Johnson feel when their books hit the shelves and they start getting feedback from their Constant Readers and jars.
When I look at it that way, this flareup loses, completely.
Alternate title: “What I spent 1,000+ words on, instead of working on my NaNoWriMo novel.”
♦
Somewhere in the last couple of weeks, I’ve developed a mystery allergy. I’m itchy — all over — with no hives, bites, eczema scales, or anything visible. I get so itchy, at times, that I scratch until I bleed. At first, I thought it was dry skin, but I’ve been using lotion and paying attention throughout the last week, and my skin isn’t actually too dry. (The palms of my hands, on the other hand*, are wicked dry. They don’t itch, though.)
Then I thought it might be the laundry detergent we’re using. I put a little bit on my arm, rubbed it in with a Qtip, and went outside for a cigarette. Aside from being very cold because I couldn’t wear a jacket over my detergent-arm, nothing happened.
I got a little worried because a friend of mine has neighbors with a flea/bedbug/cockroach problem, but I don’t have any bites or marks (other than scratches from scratching so much). My friend and her kids are all fine, though, so I don’t think I could have picked any of it up, either.
Tonight, as I was cleaning out my cat’s brush, it hit me: Maybe I have developed an allergy to my cats’ dander. It would make sense. I pinned down that my bathrobe was making me the most itchy. It is 100% polyester, but none of my other polyester or polyester-blend clothing makes me itch. However, my cat slept on it every night for about a week. I’ve since washed it in hot water, and although I haven’t worn it, I’m willing to bet that it won’t make me itchy anymore. I also washed my sheets, comforter, pillow cases, afghan, and fleece blanket — yes, I sleep with a lot of blankets — recently, and the itching got a little less itchy.
I hate to admit that I could be allergic to my furry little child, but it’s kind of looking like it. I’m having visions of having to give Squirt (my baby) and Apollo (my parents’ baby) a dander bath, and of Squirt clawing my face off because she hates water. (The one and only time we had to give her a flea bath — because the people who gave her to me let their cats go in and outside without ever giving them flea treatments — she was pissed. And this was when she was a kitten; I’d hate to see how she’d react now.)
Blaine — thank you, Blaine! — suggested I try an antihistamine. I need to refill my Claritin-D pretty badly, anyway, so hopefully that will do the trick. I cannot believe I may have developed an allergy to my cats, but I feel lucky that I’m not swelling up or anything.
The other alternative is that Mike is right and it’s dust mites, which creeps me out so badly that I’d rather be allergic to my fuzzball.
♦
I’m so ashamed, I’ve been so mean “Simple Kind of Life,” No Doubt
This song is pretty close to summing up the last few days for me. I want to go back to Friday and slam my self-absorbed little head into the wall. Okay, so maybe I don’t want to hurt myself, but I’m pretty ashamed of that girl. That is not me, and I am disgusted at my own behavior. I didn’t mean it, at all, but I’m still ashamed.
♦
I’ve been writing like mad. I fell behind for a little bit, and honestly it was partly because I was too tired to write, and partly because I lost faith in my story. A handful of awesome people — Blaine, Jess, Becky, Sanya, and Veronica, to name a few — have been encouraging me to keep going, and have (just today) made me realize that I need to have faith in my story. I’ll be honest: for a little while there, I thought it sucked and that I should stop and do something else. I was afraid that I’d failed to create the strong characters I wanted to create. They’re still not as strong as I’d like them to be, but when Jess BBMed me tonight and told me how much she loved the story and the characters, how strong they are, I said to myself, “You need to trust your story and your own writing; you are doing better than you thought you were.” (I may have actually said, “I need to trust my story…” but most likely, this conversation took place in the third person. Sigh.)
Tonight — or, okay, this morning, apparently; it’s after midnight now — I plan on breaking 13,000 words, but it’s become less about the word count and more about finishing it** and then editing it, because holy shit, there are actually people reading who expect a new chapter every day. I was, in a daydreaming sort of way, entertaining the idea of self-publishing the edited, complete version, but at the time told myself that that would be putting the cart before the horse… Now, it’s still putting the cart before the horse, but it’s a lot less of a daydream and more of a thought; I’m really thinking about it now.
♦
I may be rich with word count and chapters, but I am broke. I just finished a client’s website and am starting a new one, though, and am expecting payment from another client soon, so hopefully in another week or so I won’t have to worry about my bills. I feel horrible that Mike is the only one putting gas into the car, and that I haven’t given my mom money toward our car insurance, and that two major bills are coming up — one of which I’m not sure I can afford at all; it will all depend on how soon I next get paid.
Honestly, I’m kind of thinking of getting a part-time job somewhere. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, to be honest, but there are a few things that hold me back. I definitely don’t think I could handle two jobs right now. I want to stick this self-employment thing out, really, but the longer I go in this position, the more I miss having that secure weekly or bi-weekly paycheck (among other things). Maybe I should give it until the beginning of the new year, and then decide.
♦
So what’s new with you?
*No pun intended.
**I especially want to finish this because it will only be the second novel I’ve ever actually finished writing. I still haven’t finished The Cure Program or Secondhand Mom. I really suck at finishing things; it has to be done right away, or it gets harder for me to come back to.
When I first realized that I can do anything I want, I wanted to really think about it. I didn’t want to jump into anything (again). Rereading all of my posts from Perpetual Smile made me realize that I have a long history of jumping into things, without really thinking about it. I don’t want to do that anymore. So I thought about it. And I thought about it some more. I broke it all down, but I didn’t tell you everything, partly because I wanted to think about things more and also because, once I made up my mind, I decided it wouldn’t be right to post it here before telling a few other people.
I need income, because not only do I have bills and stuff, but writing contests cost anywhere between $10-25 for submissions, and
I can’t just leave my aunt to run the business herself, with as many clients as we have.
The forum was a day full of speakers and workshops, and I left feeling really inspired. Not only did I leave with a new mantra to succeed — start, know where you’re going, don’t stop — but I also left knowing how I’m going to accomplish my goal of being a published writer.
Interestingly enough, my aunt and I were on the same wavelength. I’m going to take over the social media marketing end of the business. I’m not doing websites anymore. This will give me more time to focus on my writing, but I’ll also be pulling in income, and doing something I really, really love. Who knew that this would be the path I’d take? The fact that we were both thinking the same thing tells me that this is the right path, though, and that, as long as I don’t stop, I’m going to get where I want to be.
START:
Rearrange my workload and schedule so that I have time to write every day*.
Create and stick to a daily writing goal.
KNOW WHERE YOU’RE GOING:
Submit short stories to contests to build up writing portfolio.
Finish Secondhand Mom and submit to agent.
DON’T STOP:
Believe in myself.
Stick to the daily writing goal.
Believe in myself.
I want to cry, I’m so happy.
*In progress; here I go! I’m kind of impatient, but it’s all about the baby steps here.
– Jill Blashack Strahan
Founder of Tastefully Simple™
These words — and they’re not quite exact, but I still had to give this amazing woman credit — have been repeating in my head over and over since I heard her speak yesterday morning.
START.
I’ve been writing since I was able to hold a pen. I know that every writer says that, but I have always used writing as a primary form of communication. I went through a period of time where I wrote at least one (really lame) song a day. At thirteen, I had no ambitions of becoming a singer. I just heard the words in my head, and wrote them down.
In third grade, I wrote a book about dalmatians. I don’t remember what happened in this book. I just remember it was written and illustrated on dark — possibly brown, purple, or red — construction paper, and I co-authored with a classmate. (I wonder if my mom still has that book. I’ll have to remember to look for it whenif we get our stuff out of storage.)
At about ten, I started writing newsletters for my family, called The Sunshine Gazette. Mom taught me how to use the typewriter*, and I published and mailed issues regularly to family members I didn’t see too often. Again, I have no idea what was written; I just remember doing it.
I remember writing what was probably my first short story in fifth grade, when I was definitely ten. I have no idea what it was about. I just remember that my teacher, Miss Crane, puts tons of edits on it in red ink, and I was so angry… but she was so right.
Since then, I have written countless stories, poems, one (horrible) novel, and several unfinished novels. For the past year, all I’ve been thinking about is writing.
KNOW WHERE YOU’RE GOING.
I’ve been sneaking in writing here and there throughout the last year, but not as much as I want to. I know that I want to finish Secondhand Mom, and I know that I want to see one of my novels on the shelves of Barnes and Noble someday, but no matter how many times I say I’m going to get serious, I always allow everything else to take precedence, and the one thing I think about constantly takes a seat in the back.
I know who I am and what I want. I’m a twenty-two-year-old woman who has a lot of love to give, and a lot of love in her life. I have a mind that thinks creatively, constantly; I’ve always been making up games and stories to entertain myself, and to entertain myself and my sister when we were little. I like heavy metal, and I like to wear tee shirts in support of my favorite bands. I have two tattoos and want more that reflect who I am and what I love. I’ve been dying to dye my hair fire engine red for years, but have held back for fear of not looking professional. I’ve been thinking about my different characters and stories, but have ignored them despite their cries, because work is always more important.
I’ve sacrificed a lot, and I don’t want to sacrifice any more of my happiness and myself in order to live in this world of business and play by these rules. I do enjoy what I do, but not that much. Listening to Jill Blashack Strahan yesterday made me realize exactly where I am going to go.
DON’T STOP.
This is important. I have to stop stopping. I have to get out of my own way. I have to dust myself off, stand tall and strong, and plunge through. I have to stand up for myself and what I want. No one can tell me what I want, and no one can give me what I want — no one but me. More so, no one can stop me, because I’m not going to let them.
I have to work steadily on my stories, and not just when the time is “right.” There is never going to be a “right” time. Right now is the right time, and I’ll be damned if I procrastinate any longer.
I’d like to say that from here on out, I am going to write every day. The truth is, I suck at writing every day, just like I suck at going to the gym every day**. I need more discipline, I guess, and I’m not sure how to make it easier to motivate myself to do it. It’s possible that I just have too many other responsibilities, and that those responsibilities are weighing me down. It’s possible that I just expect too much of myself, that I have entirely too much on my plate, and so that is weighing me down. It’s absolute, however, that I’ve hurt myself, and that I need to do better.
I’ve lost my train of thought. So much for compartmentalization.
*Biz Noni recently gave me Grandpa Frank’s old typewriter. I wish like hell I knew where to get ink ribbon for it; there is nothing like writing on a typewriter.
