Ruminations

So. I've only fallen about a hundred dollars short of the amount of money I set out to make this month which isn't so terrible and I keep getting back on the writing wagon every time I fall off. Time and again I read--or hear--from other writers that this is a painful process. David Rakoff likens it to pulling teeth from his, um, peepee. And it is hard. I can get a fair amount of stuff down on paper, and have, but now it's time to shape that stuff. A good friend of mine is in friendly with an agent interested in publishing work by women. So my next step is to put together a sample chapter. I'm affirming every day that I can be financially sound writing what I want, that I am on the right path, but godfuckingdamnit this is one of the harder things I've done in life. I'm really scared, sometimes. Because if this isn't it, then what is?

Tougher still is the financial aspect of it. I'm very, very embarrassed to be relying on my father at the moment for support. So much so that when after I confided in Dr. Moo that I felt bad having him pay to have my car fixed I blew up at her when she suggested that perhaps I didn't need a car living in Boston, and now that the muffler seems to be going, not two weeks later, I am afraid to tell him. But not so embarrassed that I won't take his help.

I've been sitting here at my laptop thinkathinkathinking and the conclusion I've come to is this: I can't accept mediocrity. I would be more embarrassed to be working in some shitty office job because I am supposed to BE somebody, to do something. Part of me thinks I'm better than that. But then part of me thinks I am being egotistical and fucking full of myself and that I'm a leech and lazy and just inherently not so much a terrible person as a loser. Because wouldn't a better person be out working like a dog so she could be independent? I have these nightmares where my mom (sorry Mcmumsy), chiefly, although other family members appear, are yelling at me for not being enough. Not good enough, not smart enough, not worthy enough. I've even had a couple of dreams about chickenfucker, where he's off gallivanting around with someone better than me.

I'd really like to let go of this. I'm really trying to let go of this.

Anyhoo, just thought I'd give you a view into the dark inner workings of my psyche.