It’s been 8 days since I last did a blog post. 8 is 1 more than 7. I’m here to explain these kinds of things. Mostly to myself.
8 days is far too long. In fact, it might be the longest I’ve ever gone without posting since I started the blog last November. I can’t confirm that, because that would require work. And if I have sufficient ennui and desiccated motivated that it’s been 8 days since a blog post, I’m certainly not capable of anything resembling work.
I’m going through a family crisis that involves frustration and stress and bodily fluids. I’ve already said too much about that, so I’ll leave it there. I’ve lived the last week as a sort of mummified zombie ghost-knight. I know that sounds pretty cool, but it turns out the intersection of those three forms of undead effectively nullifies all of their useful or interested abilities. The only thing that is left is the feeling that I’m dead, drained of life and interest in anything, animated by nothing but necessity. And energy from the negative material plane, of course. The gist is that this experience has sapped my will.
And it’s bloody well time I took it back.
I’m starting a seven part story called Sidereal Days. It’s essentially the daily journal of a character for a single week, a sort of fantasy superheroy moments-in-the-life kind of thing. It will be posted in the form of one part per day over the next seven days. The parts won’t be very long. This is much less ambitions than the withering man, but I’m still not sure I can do it.
That being said, screw that. Of course I can do it. I know that because it’s already done. I’ve seen the whole thing, already finished. And I’ve seen that it’s a wedge to thrust under the door, so that I can kick it in and start caring about things again. Wallowing is so tempting when you’re inside of it. I’m lucky that eventually some part of me gets angry at my own weakness. I know not everyone has that trigger.
Okay, that’s enough biographical rambling about my problems. I specifically don’t like to use my blog for that, but in this instance I’m choosing to indulge, even though I’m going to feel like a schmuck about it later. But it’s only for four hundred words. I’ll get over it.
I’ll see all of you tomorrow.