because writing is hard, and whining is therapeutic.

Writing is hard, and not-writing makes me annoyed at myself, and the longer I procrastinate, the easier it is for my brain to tell me that what I'm doing is pointless and dumb and that I may as well give up because don't I have better things to do than pretend to be a novelist?

It's not that I'm just automatically self-deprecating (although I can be) or that I actually have no faith in my abilities (because if I'm being honest, part of the problem is that I think I am a good-or-at-least-decent writer, but none of what is coming out seems to be proof of that). It's just that I've never done this before. Not really. I've never made it this far in a first draft, and I've never published anything, and I'm still--still!--convinced, deep down, that no respectable adult-type person actually intentionally spends time writing fantasy novels geared toward slightly-older-than-"YA"-humans. I mean, really, who even does that.

...

Anyway.

I have the phrase "Write now, worry later" written on a piece of paper at eye level if I look up from my computer (although you'd be surprised at how little one actually looks up-and-straight-ahead from at a computer). It's my reminder to myself that first drafts are supposed to be messy and no writer ever actually feels good about what they're doing until well after, if they do at all; just read all those writer quotes you've been collecting. It's to tell me to get out of my head, and that the more I think, the less I do, and the less I do, the more I worry, and then the cycle just continues. [1] So I may as well just shut up already and sit down and write that awkward paragraph or two to get myself to another, more interesting part of... of whatever it is that I'm writing. [2] I always say, afterwords, that I was happy I made myself push through it, even if it was terrible, because I can always go back and revise it later. I mean, like, way later, when I'm actually done with the first draft.

"Done" with the first draft, she says, as though she believes that possibility exists.


So, yeah, this post is a totally shameless appeal for encouragement, and for someone to maybe tell me that Writing YA Novels (Even Fantasy-Fairy-Tale Ones) is a perfectly acceptable thing to want to do with my life.

... also that if I stop whining and end this procrastiblog post, I might actually get something accomplished tonight before Being Old and Having A Grownup Job Or Whatever decide to take over.

Thanks for listening. I'm going, I'm going.

---
[1] Never has the concept of "obsessive thought patterns" been more relevant to me than when I am trying to write. Argh.
[2] ...of my book. The book that I am writing. It's going to be a book; that's its intended purpose. Why is that so hard for me to say out loud?! (or type, or whatever)

I know she can GET the job, Harry, but can she DO the job?

I have always thought that making first-or-second-year college students pick a major was a little ridiculous. How on earth is someone supposed to know, at age 18, what they want to do with their lives? [1] I cannot tell you how many people I talked to in my senior year who decided that they didn't want to be an education or business or psych major, but they only had one more semester and changing their minds would mean more time and money spent at school. And yes, I know that (thankfully!) many employers are just looking for a degree in general, nevermind what that degree is in, and no (just for the record), I'm not saying that getting a degree isn't worthwhile (although see [1] and a probable future post for more thoughts on this), but the point is: that's a hell of a lot of pressure to put on someone fresh out of high school, who--thanks to senior year and an unrealistic sense of self-assurance--thinks they actually know what it is that they want to do.

Like me, for example. I knew exactly what I was doing with my life (note the rueful shake of the head). I never even changed my major, because I knew before going to college that I was going to get my English degree, and then go on to grad school to study Composition And Rhetoric, and then become a tenured English professor and teach college freshmen How To Write and have a book-lined office with a comfy swivel chair and be that crazy blue-haired professor who changed students' lives on the regular.

Confession: I had no idea what "rhetoric" actually was (something Aristotle something), and now after a year and a half of grad school I might be able to explain it to you. Same applies for "tenure." I have also learned (in a mere 3 semesters of teaching) that I'll settle for making sure my students remember to bring a pencil to class, and convincing them that teachers DO actually notice when you use 12.5 point font (and that it just makes you look desperate when I've told you seventeen times that there isn't actually a page requirement). [2]

--anyway the point is, being an English Composition professor just made the most sense. Writing has always been pretty easy for me (which is why I would wait until the night before to do it...), and I care about reaching students at the early-adult-stages because that's the time when most people deal with/go through a lot of pretty significant life changes. I certainly did. And you'd think (maybe) that the fact that literally all of my other plans had changed would have indicated to me that I should rethink the English Prof one--but no, I'm stubborn, and it was the one thing I was determined to hold on to. Going To Grad School was the reason I turned down a promotion at The Corporation (at least three different times), why I only half-heartedly looked for better-paying (and more enjoyable) jobs, why I spent my summers trying to study for the damned GRE and write up application essays instead of doing the thing that has always been waiting (patiently) on the sidelines for me to notice it. I was thoroughly devastated when I didn't get accepted on my first round of applications (surely the magna-cum-laude-with-honors and a talent for writing would up my chances of a killer statement of purpose?!) but then not getting accepted just became a challenge that I had to take on, which I did, because I knew that I could if I just tried a little harder.

Not once did I stop to think whether or not that was what I really wanted to do.

The summer before I started school was the first time I gave myself a break, took The Pressure Of Everything Else off, and allowed myself to take my writing seriously. After all, I had the time, and no other commitments, and I might as well make the most of my summer before I moved on with my "real" life. And then I wrote more that summer than I've ever written, and it was messy and mostly awful and that project has been temporarily shelved, but it underscored the thing I've always known and pretended not to: I want to write fiction. My heart has always been in the young adult fantasy shelves, with the stories about girl heroes and adventures, with magic and romance and learning about life and relationships and yourself. But then grad school happened, and there I was, doing what I'd worked so hard to do and trying (only somewhat successfully) not to be miserable while doing it.

This is a post about Making and Changing Plans (she explained), but allow me to take a small detour to talk a little bit about whining. The thing is, it's so hard to explain where I am with school without looking like I'm just pathetically complaining about having relatively-demanding responsibilities. On the one hand, my problems are directly related to the combination of the objective, widely-accepted stress about grad school and my own struggle with anxiety. Being a graduate student is all-consuming: you wake up in the morning thinking about the work you have to do, and frequently just doing your chores feels like reprieve. [3] But I also never feel like I am doing as much as I should, and I never reach a point where I can look at my to-do list and say "yep, crossed everything off for today." And because I'm teaching, I have the weight of the education of 48 students on my heart, and the constant feeling of failure when it comes to providing meaningful feedback on their work (which only about a third of them will read anyway), as well as managing my interpersonal anxiety when it comes to overly-confident-and-cocky students (or, worse, the totally non-confident students, when my Big Sister Function kicks on and it's all I can do not to hug them while they're crying). It's little wonder that I'll take my victories in the form of pencil-equipped students on a daily basis.

But that's only one side of it. The other side comes directly from the fact that I can't seem to stop from talking about how hard of a struggle this is. And that's the really upsetting thing about grad school: it consistently makes me feel like a failure, like I am the kind of person who would rather be doing anything other than the work she's supposed to be doing. It makes me genuinely concerned that I am lazy and/or incompetent, that I am bad at sticking things out, that I can't handle actual responsibility (so much for motherhood) and I'm never going to be happy because all I want to do is watch Netflix and color--and that all of this is my fault, because I'm useless. Personal life history and character references will probably (hopefully) prove otherwise, but grad school makes it hard for me to even know who I am anymore, and between weeks 1 and 15, sometimes it's literally all I can do to have a good solid cry on the couch (or the floor, or the shower, you know, wherever). [4]

For those of you who have asked me about school and gotten the overly-dramatic time-for-a-paxil answer, this is why. And then I hear myself say (again) how it's really challenging and how rough of a time I've had, and then I hate myself for whining about all of this, again, and then I shut up because methinks the lady doth protest too much.

And thus I return to my main point, which is that having plans is fine, and being the kind of person who pursues her goals is fine, but what we often forget to tell ourselves is that we need to take time to consider what it is we actually want to do, and whether our Well-Made Plans are really getting us there.

Last semester I had to decide whether to turn in an application to renew my teaching assistantship, as well as one to the Creative Writing department to Continue My Education and get a PhD (because regardless of the fact that The Plan had always been a PhD in comp/rhet, getting a PhD in general was still acceptable). It's such a good opportunity, everyone said, and it would be silly not to at least apply because you can always decide not to go later. And even if none of UWM's fiction writing classes will specifically help you with what you want to write, you can still benefit from the classes, because writing and sharing your work will always help you improve, won't it?

I am not ARGUING that with you, Harry. [5]

But for the first time (that I can think of anyway), I made an active decision not to act on something that I could have. I nervously took some deep breaths as December deadlines passed me by. Filling out some forms? No big deal. [6] But what was a big deal was realizing that even taking that step--even pretending that I would decide later--meant that there was a really good chance that I would make myself do it. Because, damn it all, I'm not a quitter! I'm not someone who flakes out on Serious And Important Life Goals! I am not someone who just gives up on her dreams!

Not arguing that with you, Harry. But just because I can get the job--and maybe, even if I CAN do the job--it doesn't mean that I have to.

Now (almost 10 years after Making Plans) I finally, actually, know what I want.

I want to write novels and raise a family. I want to go to a job that allows me to actually cross items off my to-do list, a job that I don't need in order to feel fulfilled, and I want to leave everything there when I come home. I want to read ALL of the books and learn not to feel like I'm disappointing anyone (myself included/especially) for not Being Productive every waking moment. I don't mind hard work, and I don't mind challenges. But if I'm going to face those, no matter what, they might as well be hard work and challenges on the road to doing the things I'm actually interested in.

So, long story short (much too late, they chorused): I'm about to hit the ground limping with my final semester of grad school. [7] I'm really, really overwhelmed by it (I have to write my thesis and teach a totally new class, not to mention ignore the noisy conflict of senioritis and highest-grad-school-stakes-so-far), and I could use your prayers, because I'm already a couple of emotional meltdowns in and the semester hasn't even started yet. But if Joe can jump into a volcano, and if Addie can leave the castle to find the cure for the Gray Death [8], then I can (probably) (hopefully) make it through the next 3.5 months.

And then?

I guess we'll find out.

---
[1] Not to mention the fact that we tell them to go directly to college, do not pass go, do not collect any money for having a full time job to grow up a little and figure out what you want out of life (because you certainly won't be making enough money to pay for college, to the collected dismay of the older generations) -- but that's for a different post.

[2] For the record, blue hair washes out right away and looks terrible with my complexion, and besides, I don't even like to own books.

[3] If that doesn't capture the sense for you, I don't know what will.

[4] For my Catholic friends out there: how do I nominate my husband for sainthood?

[5] This, the title, and the images are from the movie Joe versus the Volcano, which if you haven't seen yet you absolutely should.

[6] Sending in creative writing samples and actually getting accepted to the program? Much bigger deal. All things considered, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have gotten accepted anyway (realistic observation, not self-depreciation). But that's not actually the point, so this got footnoted instead.

[7] I've considered quitting, but Aaron has convinced me that I should have something to show for all the work I've done (emotional and otherwise), so I guess I'll at least give it a shot. See [4].

[8] Bonus points if you know what this is from -- looking at you, Minte.

how i became a writer

For my entire life, I have wanted to be a Writer.

Naturally this means getting published, and even, maybe, (although I would never admit to such a wishful hope) producing a bestseller one day. I've been journaling and daydreaming and telling stories for as long as I can remember, and with nothing really to show for it, except a box of diaries, a computer folder dedicated to notes and story ideas, and one novella that I "completed" in high school and can't bear to re-read.

This week, I decided to take a page out of Castle's book, and take myself seriously. [1]

...anyway. In college, for my senior honors project, I decided I was going to start writing a book. At the end of the semester, I presented on it, I graduated, and under the pretense of "stepping away from it to let it develop in the back of my mind," I haven't opened the file since. [2] I had 41 pages, a lot of notes, and most importantly: inklings of an idea about what it means to Be A Writer.

In the last week of trying to Write More, these ideas have begun to resurface in the practical, hands-on kind of way, and I am eager to share [3] what I believe to be a decent foundational approach to the insurmountable task of Getting Started. [4]

1: the muse is a tease

Basically every creative person I know waits to write or draw or whatever until "the muse descends." Because when you've got some down time and you're just feeling really inspired and passionate, it's a great time to bust out the old moleskine and be clever. Except the problem is that we then tend do nothing until we get those surges of creative energy, and let's face it, the most common time to get them is either right as you're falling asleep, or when you're in the shower. [5] If you only wait for the muse, the number of times you are actually productive dwindles significantly, until you all but forget that you like to write in the first place. So don't wait. [6] You can't rely on the muse (that fickle minx) and you shouldn't. When I'm feeling inspired I'm also at the height of my perfectionism, and I hardly ever get anything done, because I'm too worried about losing the Perfect Moment to horrible writing. On the flip side, however, if you condition yourself to write every day, or every other day, for some concentrated amount of time, you are at least producing something. One and a half pages of crap is still better than nothing. Which brings me right to my next point, which is this:

2: editing and writing are not the same thing

I like to edit. In fact, I could spend all of my Designated Writing Time reviewing the last four pages, making them the best four pages you have ever read, and at the end of this time period (which really is never long enough, but it's what I have), I haven't actually written anything. This ... well, this defeats the purpose. Four pages of really brilliant writing is still only four pages, and doesn't get me a publishing deal. And yeah, it's awful to skim yesterday's work and not do anything about the fact that you hate it, and is that even what you want to say? And does this ramble? And is that a good character-driven bit of dialogue? But the thing is, it still doesn't get me another page. I'm training myself to leave it alone, to look forward to the time that I can red-pen the hell out of my ~*finished manuscript*~ and until then, I'm going to focus on actually producing said manuscript. Which means no editing.

3: there's nothing permanent about your decisions

is very closely related to #2, but I make it a separate heading because it has two main points I want to address. The first is for perfectionist, anxious creatives like me: it's okay to pick a direction for the sake of getting some writing done. Nothing is final until probably like, the final publishing date [7], and if you spend your whole 47 minutes of writing time dithering over character names or period settings, you still don't have more than four pages. Pick one, and go for it. If you hit a problem somewhere in the future, reassess as necessary. Names? Use one so ridiculous you won't become attached to it, and wait until it presents itself. Or better yer, spend some time outside of said designated writing time in order to brainstorm ideas and make notes for yourself.

The other side of this section is for perfectionist, anxious creatives like me: it's okay to change your mind about a past decision. Even one you were in love with. It's hard to let go of the things you loved (especially when they were just so good!) but more often than not, it's necessary. Mostly in terms of editing (because let's be honest, that's when you basically destroy everything you wrote and start over), but also in terms of just writing something down. You have to let the writing go in the direction it wants to go, and not get caught up in "but I was going to do it this way!" I only half believe in the writers' myth that your characters and story run away from you, but that half of me is pretty darn convinced. [8]

I'm pretty sure that Stephen King said something about "killing your darlings," [9] and that's ironic, because it brings me to my next thought:

4: there really is nothing new under the sun

I have a friend who doesn't even like to use the term "creative" because she believes that if God created the world and everything in it, all we are doing is copying it in a variety of ways. I think there's some truth to that. There are limitless scenarios and nuances, but the core ideas about humanity, relationships, and emotions are never going to change. Someone is always going to say "wow, way to rip off ___." Obviously there's a fine line here, and I'm not suggesting that 50 Pairs of Shoes is going to be a successful romance novel, but when it comes down to it, you can't spend all of your energy trying to create something completely new. Because it won't be. And anyway, the Greeks probably did it first.

5: writing is writing is writing

People keep telling me that the menial journaling and blogging that I do still counts as writing. I have a really hard time accepting this, because as previously stated I am an anxious perfectionist. But in the end, every little bit still counts toward the final goal. Everything you produce is proof that you can produce something, even that page of terrible poetry or the sketch of the family on the back of a napkin. Not everything you produce in the course of your life will be worthy of publishing or selling--but that doesn't make it meaningless. Do you write for the recognition of having written something, or do you write because writing is just...fun? Goodness knows I have to remind myself this. And goodness knows--writing isn't always fun. It's almost like a relationship: you have to dedicate the time and energy, even when your heart isn't in it, even when you wish it could be better. Writing isn't just an isolated magical Thing--it's a process, a habit, a way of life. It doesn't get better unless you do it, and you can't do it if all you care about is the end result.

Am I a writer? You know what, I think I am. I might not be a good one, I might be a little rusty--but I write, and I do it because I adore it. And I think that even for anxious perfectionists like me, that is enough.

---

[1] I use "decide" as a very loose term here, but that's a story for a different post. Also, look at all the clever jokes. ahaha.

[2] except for just now, to see how many pages it was. Sorry, Andy. It's lost but not forgotten.

[3] primarily with other struggling creatives out there, because I feel your pain, but with everyone too because what the heck

[4] I mean, for whatever that's worth, since I have approximately four pages of Brilliant New Story and have never been remotely published

[5] that last bit might just be me.

[6] I think this is essentially what Stephen King is saying in his infamous "butt glue" quote (you know, about making yourself sit down to write and then staying there until it happens). I quite enjoyed On Writing, but I also appreciate Peter M Ball's objections to it, because--well, because he gets me.

[7] clearly, I don't know the first thing about this process

[8] see also [4] because I will be the first to admit I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm guessing Being A Writer is sort of like Being In Love ... you just know.

[9] or he was quoting Faulkner? It doesn't matter enough to research this right now

get a grip

I am, for the most part, of the opinion that people grow in little spurts, which occur as a result of an external cause (which is usually a "bad" experience, but I find that I learn the most through these in particular). I myself can look back and identify large changes and how they correlate to my chronological life: parents' divorce, starting college, breakup, breakup, etc. To be honest, while I usually dislike the event itself, in periods of stasis I find myself looking forward to these occurrences. That's why I enjoy school so much -- I am constantly finding things to think about, and these thoughts act as little catalysts for development. And I crave this development. Only when I am actively learning, academically or otherwise, do I feel that I am exercising the truest and best parts of my brain and my personality. The thrill of processing new ideas and information carries me through until I get the next hit, and I can sail through life high on inspiration and creativity.

Which is why, ultimately, I was so very upset about not getting into grad school. My reaction probably came across as pretty overdramatic, since it's not unusual not to be accepted the first time you apply places, and it's not like I can't apply again. But for me, it was more than just a delay in reaching my career. Grad school was going to give me another few years of intellectual high, and probably/hopefully give me that one last boost into "adulthood" that I've been waiting for. I couldn't tell you what it is that I'm going to learn or do that will make that happen, but I was (am?) pretty positive that a step or two remains between current Piera and useful-member-of-society-Piera. And grad school felt like my opportunity to reach that change, because it was moving on from barista-ing. I enjoy my job, but once the new-job thrill died down, Starbucks was just ... Starbucks. In some ways I'm jealous of the people who have found their calling in, as we say, "the industry." There's something to be said for contributing in tasty little ways to people's lives, and going home at the end of the day feeling fulfilled. But what I know is that it isn't MY calling, and it'll always make me restless and hungry for something more. Working there has given me plenty of time to observe society, but no way to respond to it. I have learned a lot of useful skills, but now I am just ... re-using those skills, and I don't know where or how to find new ones. I even put off getting promoted because I was positive that I would be moving on, and I didn't want to waste anyone's time by training me.

Anyway, as we all know, God usually has something in mind that is very different from what we expect. This time around, it was not going to grad school in the fall of 2013. And I could not for the life of me figure out WHY--what else was there to learn about this job? How else can I change, besides becoming a shift supervisor (which will only provide a quick intellectual buzz and then fade back into the status quo)? How am I supposed to go to this job every damn day and not worry that this is all I am good for?

Gradually, I figured it out. It took getting a second job, working on two shows (in two capacities), and going basically nonstop with barely enough time to sleep and/or shower for a couple of months before I did, but here I am. Realizing (again.) that some of the stuff my mom used to tell me is actually, in fact, great wisdom.

In high school, and when I was home from college, I would have this problem where I would over-commit. I had friends in different circles, and I hated to tell someone I couldn't do anything because I already had plans with someone else, because it felt like I was picking a favorite. So I would agree to all of it, and drive all over everywhere so I could make it work. [1] And every so often, it would really get to me, and I would be sick of everyone and just want some time for myself--which of course I realized too late, since I was supposed to be going somewhere and I didn't want to let anyone down by backing out. In these moments, my mom would tell me that I needed to stop letting everyone else dictate the course of my life. I, of course, would be furious that she thought I was such a pushover.

Well kids, here I am, nearly 25 years old and realizing how much of a pushover I am. Less so by people, I guess, although I still cave pretty quickly (especially depending on who it is). Mostly, however, it's like Deirdre also used to say: I am so good at adapting to my surroundings that I forget to be myself.

I've spent ...well, at the very least, the last 12 years or so letting life have its way with me. Occasionally I would put my foot down and Make A Change, but pretty much only for the glaringly-big things. In daily life, in the course of weeks and months and (apparently) the last year and a half, I just kind of go along with things, because that's how it goes and I can deal.

But the thing is, I can't deal. I've been going crazy and I have been waiting and waiting for something to change so I will be happy and -- just ... what?

It occurred to me--during tech week, I think, or shortly after--that it's my goram life, and maybe there are things I can't change right now, but there are definitely things that I can. I can't just sit around and wait for conditions to be perfect. [2] If I want things to be different, I need to change them. I got lucky--I got so lucky [3]--that I spent the last several years being literally presented with problems to deal with, and ideas to work on, and people to interact with. I got so comfortable with it that I never really learned how to ... well, self-motivate, I guess, although that phrase seems sort of trite and cliche. I was always jealous of the friends who just Get Shit Done because I never seem to have the time or the inclination to Do those things. And what I realized is ... why not? When people say "you have to make the time" I always respond with "I literally don't have any."

...but Piera. Why not.

Because I spend all of my energy waiting for something to cause me to move. And when nothing does, I find the closest most appealing activity that I can get my hands on, because clearly the magic of discovering a new thing signifies that it will change me. Obviously, this isn't working for me. I have so many things to write, so many books to read. I have let my intellect sort of wither and fade, because nothing external is pushing me to use it. And then I had the audacity to complain that I was losing myself -- because I kept looking for external forces to give me a reason to use them. I was bored, and I forgot to use the one resource I have always had: my own mind. [4]

I will not just be carried downstream anymore; I'm building a raft and I'm learning to steer. This is why I didn't get accepted to grad school: because I can't keep waiting for life to flow in the direction I want it to go. Some parts are necessary and unchangeable--I have a good job, and full-time hours, and I don't love it all the time but it's what I have and that's how it goes right now. But that job doesn't define me. But that job won't define me unless I let it. And I am very done letting it.

So this is my plan. I quit my second job. I turned down a stage managing offer. I claimed the desk in the new apartment and I will assign myself Office Hours, and I will Get Shit Done. Grad school apps, round two. Blogging. Reading. Catching up on my Greek. I even completed day one of my couch-to-5k program this afternoon. [5]

Sometimes, we have no control over life. I believe firmly that we are incapable of controlling it as a whole, because we are broken and human. We are, however, able to control how we react to it, learn from it, change because of it. It's easy for me to look at Big Scary Life Events and say well, we can't control what happens, we just have to learn how to deal. I'm good at that. But what I learned recently is that we also have no control over the fact that sometimes life is mundane. The Big Stuff, I accept as a challenge. I welcome challenge. The little stuff, however, I let take over. And I'm going to... stop letting it. It's going to take more self-discipline than I am used to exercising, because let's face it, the only reason I was so motivated in college was because grades were involved. Real life doesn't have grades. It just has me, being supremely disappointed in myself, which honestly has never been enough of a reason for change. [6] And I have a sneaking suspicion that starting to change this part of my life will create the groundwork for my alleged final level-up into "adulthood" (if not shove me into it altogether, but let's not get too excited).

So this is my plan, because it never gets easier. Hell, it never gets anywhere if you don't start trying.

---
[1] Well technically, I would make my mom drive me everywhere. Which is probably why she started telling me to cut it the hell out.
[2] My last post, but the body is weak, talks a lot about this already, but with less ... I don't know, revelation. That post was a recognition of the situation; this one is ... A Plan Of Sorts.
[3] Except I don't believe in luck, I believe in design, but it sounds sort of poetic here so I'll stick with it
[4] I get bonus points for saying Very Dramatic Things, right?
[5] It was pathetic. Just sayin.
[6] As aside here about stewardship, and how not using my talents for the glory of God is like burying them to "keep them safe," and I'm feeling very passionate in this post so it's coming out from a "I have to be good enough for myself" perspective when there's a whole lot of Jesus and grace and things actually involved. I'm just stating for the record that all of this falls under the category of "Already Assuming XY and Z"

but the body is weak

"oh my god, have you listened to me lately? lately i've been going crazy ... " (some nights (intro) / fun)

It's true. Lately, I've been ... well, overworked, and burnt out, but that's a result of the show I'm doing and won't be the case after next weekend. But aside from that? Lately I've been unhappy, and restless, and even more anxious than usual. Lately I've been ... hurting, and aside from a few specific-but-not-comprehensive reasons, I haven't been able to figure out why. I always try to pinpoint the heart of my problems so that I can "fix" them, and so far, it hasn't helped.

Primarily I blame my job/life situation. It's all I can freaking talk about these days, apparently. I am sick of waking up before the sun. I am sick of feeling anxiety about staying up past 10 pm. I am sick of not stretching my brain or learning things, sick of not getting any closer to grad school or a career, sick of pandering to the entitled narcissism of our society. So I have started The Job Hunt, because clearly the problem is that I need a new job, and once I have one, I will be happy again.

But ... that doesn't fix it. It's not about creating a new scenario in which conditions are perfect [1]. Because how will getting a new job push me to start working out? Or start blogging more? Or start reading all the articles and links people send me, which gives me more thinking and blogging material? Not to mention the books I want to read, or the writing I want to do. New job =/= free time, inspiration, and/or motivation. I've been saying that not using my intellect at work makes it easier not to use it at home, but the truth of the matter is that using my intellect at work will just make me want to not use it at home (and also, probably, give me a 'better' excuse for not doing it).

I was talking to a friend today about timing and about plans. And I basically paraphrased my mom, who always used to tell me that life doesn't work on an "if/then" basis. You can't wait to start something until you do something else, because then your entire life is contingent on you doing that one thing. If you want to do something, you have to make yourself DO it, regardless of the timing. This is stuff I've known forever, and applied in weird places [2]. Apparently it's also stuff I believe in enough to tell other people--but not to take to heart. Because the presence of Starbucks in my life isn't the problem. It might be a problem, but not the underlying one. And neither is not getting into grad school, or feeling out of touch with my friends who don't live around here.

You guys, I have a confession. I haven't been to church in ... a really long time. I didn't even go on Easter Sunday because of a ridiculous scheduling error (I don't want to talk about it) and recently, I can tell. I can almost physically feel how badly I want need to start going on a regular basis. I've known for a while, I even took Sundays off, and I always have the intent to get up in the morning and go. But I haven't, because it's the first day that I don't have to be somewhere. Or because Aaron didn't get home until 6am and I don't want to go without him. Or because (just like in college) I'm just tired, and my instinctive reflex is to shut off my alarm and worry about it later. At least in college I had communion services on Wednesday. The church in town we've managed to go to (twice) only does communion every other Sunday, and guess which Sundays we actually attended. I'll give you a hint: it wasn't the communion Sundays.

And I've known that this is the problem for ... a while. I've been feeling it creep up on me. It's not that I don't think church is important, because I totally do. [3] I guess I've just never been this aware of how much I needed that forgiveness and sanctification in my life [4]. It's never really been this bad before. And it's weird because was never an intentional thing, it's just sort of how it happened. But now this is routine, and I need to break out of it, because I am convinced that re-establishing a norm for myself IS going to fix the problem, especially if that norm is a foundation of faith and hope.

So I'm going to make the effort to go to church more. And to actually bust out the Treasury of Daily Prayer that Keaton and Rebekah got us, and to spend more time focusing on Scripture and less on the daily drama I can't do anything about anyway.

And I'm scared. Because that right there is a lot of law, and I know I'm not going to stick with it. So a huge part of me wants to shrug it off--why bother starting, if you're just going to flake out anyway? But that brings me back to the idea of plans, and timing, and getting stuff done. And I know for a fact that I need to work on reconstructing the way I look at time as a whole. I already know that I can't create for myself a weekly schedule, because my life is never that easy to coordinate. So I just need to take one day at a time, and let it be what it is. Will I be productive at all this coming week? For goodness sake, no. It's tech week. Who am I kidding. What I can do is let it be tech week, and not expect anything to get done, and worry about the future ... in the future. Because conditions will NOT be perfect, ever, and sometimes you just have to make do without the business socks [5].

And at the very least, I'll go to church on Sunday. But pray for me, brothers and sisters. Because the spirit is willing, but ... my bed is just so comfy ...

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[1] every time I use that phrase, I am actually quoting the Flight of the Conchords song "Business Time" in my head
[2] like breakups, for which there is never a good time, or in my personal philosophy regarding design and "predestination"
[3] please see this link (sent to me by my mom) for the quickest/best explanation for why we should go to church on a regular basis
[4] my use of the term "sanctification" is totally a result of watching a Rev Fisk video - click here for the link and go to approx. 4:50 for the definition if you don't want to watch the entire thing
[5] see [1]. and this video.

lately.

This isn't quite as cool as my idea of a Tim-Burtony-pop-up-storybook-werewolf video, but since it's actually by the band, I guess it's okay.

Anyway, I'm hoping to return from my accidental hiatus sooner vs later.

---

Edit: I guess you can't really have a hiatus, accidental or otherwise, if you don't really post on a regular basis. I guess what I mean is that I actually have some things I want to blog about and I keep putting those things off.

being a grown-up is hard (that's why they invented procrastination)

On the agenda for this week: applying for grad school (now that the stupid GRE is over with, thank goodness) and looking/applying for jobs (if you work with me now, you can keep that tidbit of information to yourself for the time being...).

Annnd surprise, I'm procrastiblogging! Why? Because like all homework, I like to do everything else before I hunker down to do the real thing I have to do (if you're considering me for a job, please erase that from the record) (it's different when it's for a job) (anyway I have almost never handed in anything late, even if I stayed up until 4am doing it. That's dedication).

The real point of this post, however, is my frustration with present circumstances. Let me explain. My car is leaking gas and generally falling apart, and we would like to get a new car in order to not be worrying about mine collapsing. But in order to do this, I need a second job. Second-job hunting has transformed into job hunting, because a new, better-paying full-time job would not be so awful (I'm very steadily losing the optimism I once had about humanity). So I head tra-la down Obnoxious Job Search Lane and wind up in the Neighborhood of Education-Related Job Opportunities, because I somehow always gravitate toward those. And, surprisingly enough, I have found a couple of leads and I am at present avoiding writing cover letters and so on for applications.

So, you're thinking, what is the problem here?

The problem is my brain. I want to go to grad school next fall (I'm happily assuming here that I will get into any/all of my options, just let me have my delusions thank you very much and yes I know this is a run-on sentence). And that school could be here in Madison, or maybe in Chicago, or heck maybe even in Iowa (?!). And if I step into a job that's more than just an $8/hr service industry gig, I'll only be able to do it for about a year if I move anywhere other than here, and even if I stay here, I don't know if I can juggle a full time job and full time grad school at the same time (no, now is not a good time to remind me that I'll probably have to do that). Plus, I won't know about school until probably December at the very earliest, but if I waited until then to look for new jobs (because one more year at the 'bux when the end is in sight... that's not SO bad...) means that I'd only be at the new job for less than a year if I move. SO naturally because I am me, I worry about whether I will be letting people down by quitting after how many months of learning a job and learning how to do it well--and then again, what if I don't do it well? What if I actually really suck at secretarial things even though I somehow always end up looking for those kinds of jobs? What if I just stay at my job now until I go to school (which will take a lot of patience and prayers because I am frustrated now after only a year) and then discover that I don't want to teach English Comp and/or I'm a bad English Comp teacher and I should have studied graphic design all along? What if I do all this work to apply to jobs and to school and at the end of it, I have no new job options and I don't get into the schools I applied to and... and...

...and this is about where my thought-train kind of sputters and dies, because... so, I'm thinking, what's the problem here?

I have a job right now--a full time, with benefits, steady job. I'm making money, even if it's not a lot, or not enough for the lifestyle I want. I have a bachelors degree, even if I don't go back to school, and I have a lot of various experience, and I already know it's not my calling to work at the 'bux for the rest of my life. I already know I want to do more, and I already know that God will guide me to where he wants me to be. If that's not the places I'm looking, then he'll put it directly in my face so I can't miss it. Goodness knows he's done that before.

Piera. Do you believe all that stuff you say about design, and about everything working out when and how it's supposed to? Then what is the problem here?

The problem is my brain. I think too much. And if I stopped thinking about it and just starting applying and whatnot, I probably would have avoided a lot of this drama.

But then, dear 4.7 readers, I would not have written this post about patience and design and the uselessness of angst. And if that isn't dramatic irony for you then I should have failed all of my theatre classes.

active procrastiblogging

I desperately need new glasses.

I have re-superglued the crack on the left side about 11 times, and I am not kidding about this. The lens doesn't even fit into the frames the right way because the glue is in the way. I have found my current frames online and I could theoretically order them, if I can find a place that will a) take my insurance and b) use the frames I bought somewhere else. Or I could just go get new glasses like a normal person. But that would require, you know, taking the initiative to make an appointment and picking out new frames and everything.

I also registered for the GRE. Finally. And the date is coming up quickly--August the first, in case you were wondering--and I need to study for it. And I have some free study materials from on-the-lines, and a friend of mine gave my family a study book to borrow to read. I have not been able to pick it up from my mom's yet, but at least I can use it. Some day.

And while I'm in the process of studying, I want to be actually applying for school, since most deadlines are December-ish and I'm hoping to get it out of the way and off my chest. And also that applying early makes me look eager and enthusiastic (although realistically that probably doesn't matter). Applying means creating a CV, which is like a glorified resume from what I can tell, and also writing a statement of purpose. And that statement of purpose should be a piece of fluffywonderful angel food cake, because for goodness sake I've wanted to do this for years now and the hardest part of writing it should be keeping it between 300 and 500 words.

And I am avoiding all of this SO. HARD.

I still am not entirely sure why. I really and truly want to do all of these things. In my free thinking time I daydream about being back in school, about ~learning~ and about being a TA and then about teaching my very own Comp classes. I want to write my memoir (says the 23-year-old) and write my novel(s) and start translating Greek again. I want to use all this free summertime, because all I do right now is work.

Well. Work and stress about things that I need to do, instead of actually doing any of them. For goodness sake I spend more time writing about how I never write than I do actually... writing.

I have always had a problem with deadline-less projects. If there's no last minute, it just never gets done. So practically speaking, I will be studying for the GRE m a y b e two nights before the test, and definitely the day before. And I'll still feel like I'm winging it (which I will probably be doing anyway, but what can you do). I probably won't apply until December 6 (and the deadline for UWMad is Dec 8). I will probably have the mad scramble amid plenty of other plans and every time someone asks about the status of my application I will kick myself for not being on top of it.

But I don't want to DO those things. And I don't know how to fix them. I find reasons to excuse my lack of motivation--I don't have a desk, so I feel disorganized. I'm afraid of getting a bad test score, or of not getting into the school I want, so I put it off to defend myself from rejection. My early-to-bed work schedule makes it hard for me to focus because I'm worried about getting home and getting sleep (because I'm worried about falling asleep on my drive in to work). The excuses are endless. And they are all just excuses, and I know better.

I just don't know how to fix it. I am honestly starting to wonder if something is wrong with my brain, because I don't really think I have this weak of character that I can't just sit down and DO something. I also have anxiety about the passing of time, and then somehow I tend to use it stupidly even while I am angsting about needing to be productive. I feel disconnected and lost because the only person I am accountable to, really, is myself. And that's not a good enough reason to get shit done.

Let's skip past the self-esteem/emotional baggage part (I've been through that) and move right along to, "Piera, for the love of chocolate, you are 23 and out of college and married and living life mostly like an adult. It's time to grow the heck up and deal with yourself and your life and stop whining about this nonsense."

Or maybe I should be looking up local counselors because I have weird anxiety problems and it's affecting me in bizarre writer's-block-y ways.

I like neither one of these answers.

things to take: a breath; stuff to storage; one day at a time

I haven't written in a while and this is kind of disappointing to me, since I was pretty excited to have a blog that wasn't just a compilation of funny and/or geeky re-posts of pictures or quotes (that's what tumblr is for). But I think the problem here is that I haven't yet figured out this blog's purpose. I created it on a day when I was feeling particularly wise and intellectual, and I have tried to write only things that had some sort of intellectual point to them. And then I kind of stopped, because sometimes I just don't feel intellectual... sometimes I just feel regular, or even kind of silly (or even kind of dumb), and then I don't feel moved to write anything at all.

So maybe that's my problem: that I need to feel inspired, one way or another, to write something smart. I have to be feeling it, and I have to have the time and nothing else to do in order to feel that way. I also have to be inside, because it's hard to see my laptop screen inside and I really like to be outside when it's so damn nice out.

But then I leave this blog to sit and gather dust, and I spend a lot of time reading (which is good) but not writing (which ... is less good). I keep waiting for days off (like today) so I can sit in Arcadia (the Spring Green bookstore/coffee house) and write something thoughtful and intellectual, and then I get here and discover that this blank-page of a day is too wide open for me to make up my mind. Do I want to finish my hard copy of the Princess Bride? or do I want to start Water for Elephants, which I have just borrowed to my brand new Kindle? Am I feeling up to applying my mind to my email to Keaton, or to a similar discussion with a friend over previous posts? Should I be studying for the GRE so I can pick a day at random to take the exam, so I can start applying to grad schools? (there's a right answer to that last one, and it's "yes" except ... ugh. studying for standardized tests is NOT how I want to spend any day, let alone a day off).

On the bright side, all of my options are relatively intelligent. Lack of internet access means no watching of netflix, so I can even go home and do smart things, since I don't technically need the internet for them. But going home means finishing thank-you notes (which are already a month overdue) or packing up wedding gifts so we can get them out of the living room and into our (overpriced) storage unit. Going home means what am I making for dinner, and maybe I should nap on the porch because it's just mmm so lovely out there.

I guess that's my life right now. A big blank page of "you just got married! what are you gonna do next??" filled with a lot of good intentions but not a lot of action. And to top it all off, I really miss being around my friends back home or back at school, and even though I really want to go to UW Madison for school, I don't look forward to the fact that it will be a few years before I'll be able to call one of them up for a last-minute Target run.

Days like today remind me that life is still ... life-y, even though it feels like a major section of the story has concluded and I've begun a new one (entitled "Grown Up and Married and Everything"). It's actually pretty awesome to realize that all I'm doing is working right now, and I have wide open afternoons to sit and be intellectual. I've been reading a ton and I have writing projects and it's actually pretty lucky that I don't have internet at home, so the battle is really between me and myself. I think this summer is going to be about making decisions (to read or to write ... that is the question) and about being less stressed out about time. Days off happen twice a week whether I realize it or not, and they don't have to be chock-full of Getting Stuff Done!!! because there are still five other afternoons to do things. And I have no deadlines for any of this (another blessing-and-curse, but there it is). And the sun will be here, all summer, and I will still get to spend some time in it, even if I also spend some time in Arcadia writing posts with unexpected and less-than-truly-intellectual themes.

the wretched stone

I keep setting aside time to use the internet at Starbucks. And then I sit and tool around on the facebook, and scroll down my tumblr feed until I get bored, and then I realize that unless I actually want to Sit & Write, there’s no point to being online. And even if I did want to S&W, I don’t necessarily need the computer for that. At least not for the writing part. And i don’t feel like being intelligent just now … so … I’m basically just wasting time.

And I’ve been thinking a lot about this, especially since we don’t have internet at the new house yet. And part of me (a very foreign part, I might add) thinks that maybe I don’t really need to have internet. Because when I don’t have it, I find other things to do with my time. Like read or write or clean or whatever. It’s kind of crazy to be honest.

BUT then again - what about important emails, or if i want to study for the GRE (which I can do online for free vs paying for a hard copy of the material) or looking up directions, or things like that? Gotta admit, it’s handy having internet at the your fingertips. For both procrastiblogging and for staying on top of life-things.

Granted, I don’t think I’ll need to worry about real-life stuff for the next couple months, so it’s not like I need internet right at this moment. And in reality, there are three other people in the house and they will probably vote on getting intarwebs (and then the issue will be whether I have the self control to stay away or not… probably not).

plus-netflix!

-_-

It is a quite interesting place to be.