Things that don’t suck even when I feel bad:

  1. A wedge of aged feta drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with oregano, served with olives, thinly sliced red onion, and fresh pita.
  2. Hanging with my bro.
  3. Looking through comic book bins for black and white weird releases that I like so much.
  4. Walking around in sunshine despite the forecast rain.
  5. Having a metro show up within 4 minutes of walking into a station.
  6. A poorly named but funny as hell film called ‘I Could Never Be Your Woman’ that had me belly laughing.
  7. New comics to read.
  8. Riding the tram.
  9. Playing hooky from language class.
  10. An extra two inches of space around my waist when I put on a pair of old sweat pants.
  11. Being able to zip up my winter coat without having to wrangle it past my fat butt.
  12. My shiny nails after my home manicure.
  13. Finding innumerable English speaking theatre groups asking for new plays from anybody. Even found 8 other groups right here in NL.
  14. Hearing from my friends.
  15. Getting a really good night’s sleep because I found a sleep mask for only €2.50 rather than the whopping €30 they were asking online.

Yesterday was better. Didn’t have much hope it would be when I got up, and when my bro suggested going to the comic shop with him I agreed because I didn’t know what else to do. It was to a part of town I’d not been to, so that was new and different. The rain parted every time we stepped outside. I found one or two weird comics to give a try – my taste is very eclectic. Watched some barge traffic on the river. Had lunch at a Greek place I really like. Walked around looking in the cheap shops and found a couple of things, like my sleep mask. Came home and watched some films I really found enjoyable. Heard myself laughing, then forgot about feeling bad and just went with it.

Still won’t go to language class this week. My mood is too tenuous. Play it safe: gym, shower, a little relaxation, a bit of getting out. Not smoking is getting easier. Had a couple of small hand rolled cigarettes to combat the head pain. Don’t crave tobacco or marijuana, just get headaches. My smoker’s cough has left me.

Sleeping better. Eating better. In fact, yesterday might be the only day in over a week I actually consumed something CLOSE to a normal amount of calories. Which might be a big part of why I feel better. I know. It was the first time I felt I could eat more than a few bites in one sitting.

Out of frustration I did a search for theatre groups just to SEE if there was anybody out there willing to take a chance on a new play. Found more than ‘anybody’. More like ‘everybody’. While I still feel frustrated over not hearing anything from the group I’m trying to get involved with, I do feel a bit less anxious over the whole thing. It could take me six months just to prep and send a play out to all the places around the world that would be willing to take a look at it. And yeah, that’s pretty much my plan. Finish it off, tinker here and there, then send it out into the world. All at once. Oh, I know they say never do that. Publishers are famous for that caveat – only send your stuff to one party at a time, giving each a minimum of eight weeks to accept or reject it. Screw that. Everyone is getting it asap. And if anyone wants “first rights” – well, pay me. You want it for free? Then you put up with the fact that some other little known amateur group half way around the world is doing it, too. And if everybody wants to do it…Well, I’ll cross that bridge only if it presents itself.

Even found plenty of places willing to take a risk on musicals. Hm. That’s got me thinking.

And while I’m feeling better, I still doubt myself. Don’t know that I can pick all this up again and keep going. Don’t know that I want to. Telling myself nothing is mandatory. I can sit here and not speak the language for the rest of my freaking life if that’s what I want. Also telling myself that expecting a one year old child to get every bit of grammar and language correct 100% of the time is silly, and that’s what I am – a one year old child as far as the language is concerned.

I don’t know. Feels like I brow beat myself to within an inch of my sanity and I got nothin’ left anymore.

Including answers.

If I ever had any answers to begin with.

So that’s me. Stripped down of everything. So beaten up by myself I just sit here. Can’t tell you why I did it. It just happened, like it’s happened before.

That’s my cycle.


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