About even day
Oct. 26th, 2004 03:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leahbobetSo far, not a good or bad day, but kind of even. For example:
Pro: it is sunny and I got a contract and a cheque in the mail.
Con: the cheque will not be enough for a new desk chair, as mine is on the last wheezing gasps of existence (the back fell off this morning and I had to jury-rig it).
Pro: I have my time largely to myself to write.
Con: I have a lot of errands to run today, and should be looking for a second job. And am having an I Suck week and haven't written much anyways.
Pro: I'm officially no longer in school -- and this is a pro because it wasn't until I was made to leave that I realized just how miserable and horrid to be around academia makes me.
Con: Gotta tell my parents that, and they won't be pleased. And the finding a second job thing.
And so on, and so forth.
Did manage to add a poem to the Bitter Fairytale Series last night (called Clothbound), and the whole two people I showed it to were blown on their asses, even though I think it's mostly just bitter. Sent it off to market on their recommendation: I expect that if it is published, people will e-mail me and inquire nervously as to the state of my relationship. But in the light of day, I think I might be seeing what they saw in it; has a good rhythm. Perhaps more Bitter Fairytale Poetry tonight, if I can maintain my irritation at the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen for that long.
(Aside: Bitter Fairytale Poetry arises from my love of fairytales conflicting with my continuing belief that fairytales are really not a healthy thing to read to children. They lead us to believe that the world is good and true, and that handsome princes exist if we only wait for them, and that beauty is indeed the paramount virtue a woman can have. They are not a good preparation for life. They leave one damaged and physically insecure and waiting until one dies for a man who never measures up to some artificial standard. This does not mean I don't enjoy them, just...it's a recognition of the baggage they can put in a person's head.)
Perhaps also the beginning of Toronto Book Draft Three tonight. Revising suits my moody mood.
And I go.
Pro: it is sunny and I got a contract and a cheque in the mail.
Con: the cheque will not be enough for a new desk chair, as mine is on the last wheezing gasps of existence (the back fell off this morning and I had to jury-rig it).
Pro: I have my time largely to myself to write.
Con: I have a lot of errands to run today, and should be looking for a second job. And am having an I Suck week and haven't written much anyways.
Pro: I'm officially no longer in school -- and this is a pro because it wasn't until I was made to leave that I realized just how miserable and horrid to be around academia makes me.
Con: Gotta tell my parents that, and they won't be pleased. And the finding a second job thing.
And so on, and so forth.
Did manage to add a poem to the Bitter Fairytale Series last night (called Clothbound), and the whole two people I showed it to were blown on their asses, even though I think it's mostly just bitter. Sent it off to market on their recommendation: I expect that if it is published, people will e-mail me and inquire nervously as to the state of my relationship. But in the light of day, I think I might be seeing what they saw in it; has a good rhythm. Perhaps more Bitter Fairytale Poetry tonight, if I can maintain my irritation at the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen for that long.
(Aside: Bitter Fairytale Poetry arises from my love of fairytales conflicting with my continuing belief that fairytales are really not a healthy thing to read to children. They lead us to believe that the world is good and true, and that handsome princes exist if we only wait for them, and that beauty is indeed the paramount virtue a woman can have. They are not a good preparation for life. They leave one damaged and physically insecure and waiting until one dies for a man who never measures up to some artificial standard. This does not mean I don't enjoy them, just...it's a recognition of the baggage they can put in a person's head.)
Perhaps also the beginning of Toronto Book Draft Three tonight. Revising suits my moody mood.
And I go.
