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All content copyright 2010 by Chelsea Biondolillo. Seriously.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

365 days of being a writer: day 134

I might not like people enough to be a writer. I think I have brought this up before.

I'm pissed off most of the time. I used to add "lately" to that sentence, but for how many years can you add lately before it needs to just be dropped. Maybe I am just pissed right now because I am stuck in a town I mostly despise in a job that is wildly beneath my abilities. Maybe that's it.

And before, it was because I had no direction and was partying too much to have any self-respect. And before that, because I had given my life over to someone with nothing to give back, not even decency. Before that... I had married badly. And before that? Maybe I wasn't so pissed? I can't remember. I don't think I used to be mad all the time. 

So, for the past fifteen years, I have been frustrated by my willingness to take the easy, rather than right road. It seems reasonable, that I am my own worst enemy, etc etc. Except, that isn't the problem now, is it? Unless waking up late is the easy road vs. getting up to write (right). Was moving here the easy road? Fuck it doesn't feel like that. And even if it was, I am definitely glad I took it (even if I REALLY don't like this town, moving here has been good).

I am just tired of being mad and frustrated all the time. I don't see how I can shift my expectations or adjust my attitude in my current situation. I mean, I can't even picture what that might look like. To me, acceptance is acquiescence. Looking on the bright side means settling, giving up.

It's late. I need to sleep. This morning, I wrote a little on the Night essay and later, I exchanged a set of emails with the potential job contact. Fingers crossed.

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