I have a feeling that life is trying to be uncooperative with me this year.
You see, I was going to take the advice of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, despite my general loathing of them, because I really felt that the key to success was simply getting out of your own way. “You’ve got to let it be”, Mr. Kiedis warbled, and I tried to believe him. If I just allowed myself to trust myself, then I’d magically be able to do all of the things that I wanted to do. Presto, change-o, life’s great!
Of course, none of that happened. The novel that I’m writing has been delayed multiple times, due to life getting in MY way. One of my medications has caused me to put on more weight instead of losing it, undoing all my weight loss from last year. My reading lists were sidetracked by research for the novel, my movie-watching lists were derailed by other addictions, and homeschooling, well, let’s just say that I’m profoundly glad that it was preschool for the boys this year and not, say, senior year of high school. And losing my friend keeps nagging at me, gnawing at any self-confidence that I had left and making me regret sooooo many things.
It’s July. I’m not a big fan of July, in general. It always (here in Texas) seems to devolve into everyone laying around the house in an air-conditioned stupor, simply because it’s too darn hot to go outside. Things start to accumulate: layers of debris, junk in corners, dirt and grime on the walls. Nothing gets done.
I’ve realized, reluctantly, that this isn’t going to just magically be my year.
I’ve got to push to get things done. I’ve got to fight my way through the snares that life keeps throwing in my way. I’ve got to stick with things even when they’re hard. And that’s a big challenge for me, since I’m the sort of person who vacillates wildly in mood from day to day. Today, I didn’t feel like doing ANYTHING. But I had to suck it up and do something, even if it wasn’t anything exciting. Grocery shopping pretty much wiped me out for the day, but I could probably manage to write a couple hundred words, if I opened up the Word file and applied myself to the work. I just have to do it, like it or not.
The funny thing is, later, I can’t tell which chapters I wrote “on a high” where the words were flowing out easily, or which chapters were ground out over broken glass. They look pretty much the same in the end.
Movies have to be fit in, books have to be added to the priorities, and school, eventually, has to get put back into the daily grind. It’s not going to be an easy year. This one is fighting me, every step of the way.
But don’t they all seem like that?
They usually do. I can’t remember any, anyway, that seemed exceptionally easy. Just allowing good things to happen doesn’t make them happen, alas. Lately it seems like happiness has to be dragged out of its hidey-hole with a come-along. And then it tries to scurry back if you take your eyes off it for a moment.
*sigh* Where’d I put the rope and the winch?