Day Eight | Skillshare Projects



Day Eight


Today, I noticed exhaustion. Bone deep weariness. The kind when you wake you must struggle to get up. The kind where your body feels disconnected from your brain. The kind where you lie in bed and you're sure you are comfortable, but you can't feel the soft sheets cacooning you or the feather pillow holding your head in fluffy heaven. But you do feel thankful that you're lying down and not on your feet. That was what I felt this morning.

There's no reason for the exhaustion, I slept well. I received enough hours. And yet, it's persistent. I'm at the computer and every fiberous nerve is twitching for blankets to wrap myself in. My cold feet long to lift the edge of the blankets and tuck into the pocket. My eyes struggle to combine letters into words. My fingers feel like small cinder blocks forcefully lifted and dropped onto the appropriate keyboard letter. 

The sun peeks through the clouds and I realize I'm colder than I thought. Which makes my body long for the weight of flannel sheets, blankets, and comforter wrapping me softly, promising comfort, warmth, and a sleep so deep, even pleasant dreams can't penetrate. 

I noticed the more I fight the exhaustion the more I slog to the kitchen looking for an edible antidote that will bring warmth and pep and awareness.


Today, I noticed I feel calm. Peaceful. Relaxed...maybe not relaxed. The day feels right. For what I don't know. Maybe my writing projects will come easy. Maybe they won't. However they come, I know I'll be okay with them. 

Today, I noticed the sound of a less obtrusive motorcycle motoring down the road. The rider must be in a calm, peaceful place, too. He didn't feel the need to rev the bike or go fast. He, or maybe she, cruised by, kind of like my driving when I'm enjoying the day, the music, the not cold, not warm breeze of a sunny-ish spring day.It makes me want to go drive around. In the mountains, through the trees, over wash-boarded, pitted, dirt roads. Feel the vibration of the grooves, the light jostle of the bumps. I like that slow rocking motion of my truck dipping down in a pit and cresting to the level of the road again. Country roads amid trees. I think of that when I think of peace and calm. Off-the-beaten path, further than that, more desolate, where it's quiet. Any place like that makes me happy. A lake tucked among trees bring more joy than the ocean crashing on the beach. 

The ocean has its place, too, but for a serene feeling, trees, dirt roads, creeks of rushing water from snow runoff, those are what I would love everyday. 


Today, I noticed I have no desire to mess with anything in here. :)

Today, I noticed I've recovered a thought from yesterday. A thought I was going to write about but which left me high and dry while I panicked over time. Rejection. 

I've been submitting short stories for a while. I noticed that some days I want a rejection to roll in. I long for it. I crave it. Then the day passes with no word and I move on. I received my first refjection on my newest short story. Two days prior I was chatting with a writer friend and told her how I couldn't wait to check off that first rejection. The day it came in was a different story. I saw the subject line and walked away. I knew what it contained, but I didn't want to acknowledge it. I wasn't as strong and determined as a few days prior. 

Eventually, I opened the email and it was a form rejection. It stung. I didn't want to admit the sting, I didn't want to feel it and I most definitely didn't want negative thoughts to creep through my brain cells and spread like a malignant tumor to my creative side. I've spent so long fighting those mean voices and only recently have I felt they were under control. 

The voices didn't erupt. No negative thoughts, no sneers no sarcasm. I felt a sting. Plain and simple. A rejection. Nothing more, nothing less. 

I noticed it felt good to take it for what it was, not a rejection of me personally, not a rejection of my abilitties. After the good thought washed away, I decided rejection wasn't so bad. The only way it could be better is if it were on my terms. Arrive on the days when I feel strong and beg for it. 


Today, I noticed I can't let things be. Everytime I come in here to post an entry for the day I want to change or tweak something. Today, I wanted to change the main picture. However do to time constraints I do not have the benefit of filtering through photos to find one with just the right megapixels. And that is driving me crazy. 

Let it go, Diane, let it go. I find it incredibly distracting to focus solely this moment for ten minutes only. I've written within time limits before, but usually, I don't have anything stopping me other than my own thoughts. Today, I have ten minutes. Well, seven now. And I don't have time to dilly-dally. Once my clock reads 10:25, I need to go, go, go. I had thoughts before I arrived at this page. Thoughts on abilities and rejections, but as I type, I glance at the bottom right to check the time. Each time I peek, I freeze and realize I'm not making much progress and it's wiping all my thoughts away. Thoughts that I would rather write about have evaporated with each passing minute. Did time speed up? Two minutes left. I feel as if I failed the task, even though I have words down, they weren't what I wanted to write. 

I'll leave myself with this thought: You did something, That is more than nothing. Be happy, keep moving forward. 


Today, I noticed I'm cheating. Yesterday should have been Day Four, but I never sat to write at the computer because the sun was out and it was the Daffodil Festival of Parades. 

My husband and I woke and enjoyed the day together. Our twins play in the marching band and they were off to begin their day early at the school, dressed in full band regalia. While the band began in Tacoma, my husband and I lolled in bed, enjoying the silence and watching the light fog disperse. While the band marched through Puyallup, my husband and I forced ourselves to get a few things done around the house. While the band was enroute from Puyallup to Sumner, my husband and I zipped down the hill and found a grassy spot in the spring sun to laze until the parade began. 

The start of the parade brought us to our feet. And just like the years when the twins' older brother played in marching band, my husband and I guessed wrong on which side of the street to stand. One child was in the middle of the trumpet row and one was on the opposite-side outer edge. If you can say anything about my husband and I, it's that we are consistently wrong guessers. 

Once the band passed we strolled off to the car. While the band was enroute to the final Daffodil Parade in Orting, we dined at the local mexican restaurant. 

Today, I noticed my husband and I are still in sync with each other. All the years we've been together and my heart still ka-thump-thumps when he takes my hand in his. 



Today, I noticed how to update without scrolling through all the previous days work. Such a simple solution really, just type above the last post. And, why I didn't think of it before I don't know, but I can edit title too. Sometimes I am a little slow to catch on. 

Today, I noticed...or rather I believe, my cat may have been a redneck in a previous life. I don't know how I feel about reincarnation, but I'm thinking if it is possible, he was a redneck. I'm not picking, I'm merely pointing out, my cat could be the cat that changes the opinion of dog-loving only individuals. 

Ollie is not a normal cat. He loves the outdoors, which isn't the unnormal part. He's a carousing, beer-drinking, fire-loving, brawler. When we are outside, he's the happiest, loviest cat. He especially loves a fire in the pit and people hanging out with beer. He will knock over your beer and lap it up. After a beer, he galavants around the neighborhood and takes on any other animal he finds. 

If he was human, he'd be the guy at the bar, drinking, picking fights, hitting on women, and sleeping in the dog house every night. 

Just like the bar-brawler getting a night in the hoosegow, the warden (me) locks the furry-offender in the garage. He cries and moans like what I assume a drunk in the tank would do. He comes out and sucks up to us, which is his way of saying, "I promise to behave." And he does, for a few days. Then he's back to carousing ways.


Today, I noticed I cannot add another project, I can only amend this one. I guess that's like getting nine do-overs. Although, they aren't really do-overs since I'm trying to notice more than just the same thing each day. 

Today, I noticed I have a serious competive attitude. I kind of knew this already, but when doing physical therapy you aren't suppose to push yourself too hard. My poor PT had to keep pulling me back and reminding me, one step at a time. Slow progression. I was so annoyed my sarcasm reared its ugly head. And why do we say, "reared its ugly head?" If it's supposed to be mean and ugly maybe it needs to rear its ugly posterior. 

Today, I noticed my mind is all over the place. One thought swoops in and before I can grab hold of it, it dips its talons in the pond, grabs another idea ready to surface and zips off, cackling as it goes. KInd of makes me feel half insane that I can't keep hold of a thought. I want to read a book. I want to write. I must do laundry. I must pick up kids from school. What's for dinner? I have to shop. My teens come home and lay waste to the cupboard like locusts on a wheat field. I'm tired of shopping. So very tired of shopping. 

Today, I noticed I really hate shopping. But, I also noticed that when I do go and my favorite cashier is working I will wait in her line rather than go to a fast moving line. She makes my day, She's always happy. 

And today, I'm happy. 


Today, I noticed I am stressed. In part from all the weird health issues surrounding my family of late and in part of the never-ending expenses of the boys' high school fees. Particularly, band fees. I am excited the boys will be attending the 100th anniversary of the Indianapolis 500. Their band director is as giddy as a toy company that just launched a product whose popularity surpassed the Cabbage Patch Kid phenom. The final payment (times two, no discount for twins) is due Friday. And so is the regular marching band transportation fee and so is the jazz band transportation fee. Is it sad that I kind of wish they weren't so talented so that maybe we could catch a few financial breaks? Yeah, that thought is not good. I'm proud of them and we will pay and pay and pay. 

Today, I also noticed that even though I'm stressed I know I'm on the right path. Health issues and financial pitfalls may abound, but they are expected in life. If everything was as simple as apple pie (obviously, whoever came up with that analogy can cook, apple pie has not worked well for me, guess I shouldn't use that, but it was the first thought) and as smooth as a frozen lake, life would be boring. I chalk this all up to a "Character Building"year. One where you can choose to slog through muck and mire and whine the whole way or suck it up and find out how creative you are and laugh about the absurdity of the situation. For example, our roof sprung a leak, our shower sprung a leak, and water puddled around our garage. I could chose to cry that our house is trying to drown us or appreciate that my husband has some damn fine handy-man skills. I choose to appreciate his skills and I tend to throw in my fix-it thoughts, as well. My fix-it thought are as random as my writing brainstorms, 80% suck, 10% may work - just not for this project, 9% are good options for plans B, C, and D, and 1% is golden. We learn what we are made of and how resourceful we can be. You can only find that out when tested. If we were rich and could afford to hire out every nuisance we'd miss out on learning the depths of our capabilities. 


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