Hermey Doesn’t Like to Make Toys

29 Jun

The innocent decision to write a novel has seriously screwed up my week. I can’t write. Creating a 500 word blog post has been like trying to catch a buttered kitten. (Which, by the way, happens to be one of my favorite things in the world to do on a lazy Sunday afternoon.) I actually wrote something the other day about writing a novel that was to be published here, but it sucked too bad. Then the next day some other words sucked. Yesterday … it sucked.

Writing a novel is hard work. I almost had a complete breakdown in the first hour of the planning stage. Then I tried to write a scene. What a mess that was. So I just slid under my desk and sucked my thumb for six hours … like I did in college. No, not really, but it kinda sounds nice. In college, I just pushed through it. I had professors and bad grades to deal with if I didn’t.

Before this silly novel idea, I shut down the virtual t-shirt shop to free up two hours from each day. Now, with more time to create and less to show for it, the pressure to DO is maddening. One can’t create staring at the clock with abusive thoughts (like “Do something idiot!”) flitting about. That’s when I say “Nap time!” But I wake up dejected all the same. At least, that’s what happened yesterday. So I’m forced to chop vegetables or vacuum something filthy to feel better. Anything mindless works, really.

Then if one day turns to two days turns to three days, I begin to think about other, better ways to spend my time, like grad school or sitting in a nice cave somewhere. That little monster on my shoulder yells “Stop writing … FOREVER! You’re wasting your time, jackass.” When it gets that bad the new blog posts dry up and I disappear. I disappear into conformity–working, but not living. Not growing. Shrinking. Suffering.

I have never felt like a conformist. (That’s putting a positive spin on it. Really, I’ve always felt like an outcast, partially from self-esteem issues.) I’ve always connected with Hermey from Rudolph. YOU’LL NEVER FIT IN! But, after 40 goddamn years, I’m beginning to see that as a positive. I look around and see no good reason to fit in. Fitting in is conforming is deadening is boring is television is commuting is shopping is fattening is believing is a perfect waste of time.

Anyhoo, today’s been better. Much better. What I’ve earned: Don’t believe your bad thoughts and shitty moods. It’s all a scam. Sure, it feels real at the time, but …

Say it with me: Tomorrow’s a brand new day.

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