kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 19th Nervous Breakdown On my screensaver I have a quote by Barbara Kingsolver �There�s no perfect time to write. There�s only now�. Well Barbara, if you ever read this I�d like to personally thank you for giving me a nervous breakdown of astronomic proportions. Because now, no matter what I�m doing, in the back of my head I am thinking � you should be writing. Writing what? Now that�s a good question since my grand idea for my �great American novel� sounds great when I gab on about it to friends. But in reality I can�t even scratch the surface, I just can�t seem to do it (while I�ll admit that I haven�t really tried all that hard). �Write about what you know� everyone says. Great. Just great. Anyone care to read a short story on the paralysis of my neck from over exercising? About how it has somehow spread into my ear lobes which now ache and sometimes itch. About how I am obsessed with the fact that there must be waxy buildup in there even though I practically pry my brains out with Q-tips every night? No. Didn�t think so. And then there is the freelance stuff. The dotcomedy stuff I can deal with, but the other job scares me to death. In all honesty I am brought back to that place where I feel �stupid�. I am paralyzed with the same fear that led me to believe I couldn�t write my papers in college (even though I graduated Magna Cum Laude). The same fear that made me terrified to go hang out with The Feet when he went to Vassar for fear that my ignorance would be so obvious that the second I opened my mouth it would pour like something out of an Alien movie. And while I know I�m not stupid, and I know I can do this job, I am still bothered by the voices in the back of my head that tell me I can�t or that I�m not literary enough or aware enough or whatever enough. And I believe those stupid voices far too often. I take them to bed with me and we cuddle. In the morning we go for a jog and then we have breakfast together. And no matter how much I read and how much I know I will never be �enough� for myself. Am I the only person who gets mad at themselves when they don�t complete the entire Sunday New York Times? When I only go for the Style section, the magazine, and the book review? When I completely disregard anything newsworthy? In fact, the Times is sitting next to the couch right now and as I write this I am suddenly compelled to go get it and read until I am a vastly educated person or my eyes fall out � whichever comes first. Eegads. I sound like a complete nut job. See? This is what almost a full month of unemployment does to you. Once all the obvious things are out of the way � you catch up on laundry, your apartment is clean, you organize your photo albums and CD collection � then the real crap starts driving you insane. The stuff that you never have time to obsess about when you�re doing that silly work thing. Yeesh, and people actually want to retire? I�ve had about as much self-reflection as I can take. Thank God I�m starting my new job next week. Once I�m fumbling about my new office (or more likely cubicle) I will wish for all of this free time. And I will want to kick myself for not having done more with it. All of this and I still haven�t brought my shoes in to be repaired or my stuff to the tailors! See I�ve got real concerns here. No time to fret about self-doubt, insecurity, perfectionism. Geez. 11:58 p.m. - 2001-11-06 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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