My one-year blogsversarry has come and gone. I wanted to write something fun, and funny, and I cannot. That’s why I haven’t posted a thing lately.
I’ve lost my funny.
I’ve lost my funny, and I’ve lost my art, and my words. All the things that brought us together via the blog.
All I have left at the moment are the cats.
Maybe it’s the epic book-journey I’ve been on, reading the Song of Ice and Fire books. (OMG the author looks like my dad!) I’m only on book four, and it’s been over a week. Or two? These are long books, so far every one over 800 pages hardback according to Wiki (I have digital versions so can’t be sure of a page count). I’m happy to have a place to go, and crave that world when I am away too long, but perhaps this level of escape is not the best for me?
However I think I know deep down what is bothering me. And it is an unsolvable problem, which bothers me more and makes it harder.
I read just a few of my early posts: just one or two, and I seem so different. Financially strapped, physically broken… but I was writing. Even just to hear myself speak, I was writing. And then I was drawing! A new format that excited me and opened new worlds and ideas.
And then I got a job and all that went away. Poof! And now instead of dreams that feed my creativity, I dream of computers and emails and Things I Forgot To Get Done. I wake and think of these things instead of marvelling at the strange song that was in my head.
So. I want to say a lot of things, but right now, I’m just a bit dark. I want to bitch about work but It Isn’t Safe. If I put up a password protected post, would anyone read it? Who really wants to hear me moan? I don’t even really bitch to iDJ as there is nothing he can do – and as a man, he would want to fix it. He’s just as trapped as I am, so other than leaving with a sigh and coming home somber or cranky, I don’t say anything.
heretherebespiders 
Like ! Like! Like!
Yes, we would read it, dear! Get this stuff outta you and onto paper. Other people will help you hold it, but you have to tell us. Just the way you have helped me and Big Mister by being my community. Big Mister has enough going on with the Me I’ve become, so having my community that so clearly cares, helps us both. We want to do that! Why do you think we keep comin’ back!??
Hey, I went on and on over on my blog in response to your comment. Then, lookee here you’ve posted.
Life isn’t all fun and games, it’s got lotsa shite. Tell us all of it. We’ll still like you and wish we could draw seahorses and baby toes and kitties!
Goin’ now to leave room for the other parts of your community. This is like taking up all the room on the answering machine tape! >:-D
I did see your reply – its why I finally posted this, which was mostly written on Sunday 🙂 You did say so much that I needed time to digest it all! But I took to heart the parts that made me hit ‘post’ tonight. Thank you, my dear Purple Lady 🙂
That’s me, goin’ on and on! >:-0
Did you see that you helped the curtain lady by talking?! It’s amazing how this works!
And, you don’t have to moan about your workplace in particular. Talk about the personalities, the dynamics, talk about the You in all of that.
Sleep…. rest well… –L
You know I’d read it!
If you need to get it out, you have to get it out. Don’t let it boil till the bomb explodes! We are here to listen and maybe even give advice? 🙂
I hope you’ll feel less dark, and more optimistic soon! We’re missing the fun posts, pictures and you! 😉
I know The Job takes up a lot of your time. But dont forget about yourself. Even if its just for a few hours! Eventually you’ll get the inspiration back to draw and to do more! 🙂
Yeah, I’ve been feeling like exploding lately! I miss WRITING the fun posts, a lot. The job is 9-5, well, 9-6 but only PAID for 9-5. It just eats up my brain lately, too. I’d really hoped that eight damn months after working again, I would have found a way to have some fun again.
Yea, sounds familiar. When I had internship, my workdays were from 8 to 3. When the managers were both gone, and it all came up to me, I made work days till 4 or 5. After the firs week I couldn’t do it anymore. And decided to go all “Fuck this” and just work till 3, even though it wasn’t finished. That wasn’t my problem. Haha.
I hope you’ll be able to find some time for yourself again. 😦 Take it easy!
Perfect! My husband was just recently talking about wanting to take vacation, but since nobody picks up his work while he’s gone, he has to work twice as hard when he comes home from hols.
He had a rather large aha moment this time–he decided to NOT work twice as hard after holiday. Just his 8 hours. So he’s off on his hol this weekend with a lighter spirit. He is not the one who gets paid to plan–it’s their problem. It’s OUR problem if we let it be so.
A long time ago on an oil pipeline far, far away, I worked a 16-hour day to get an urgent directive to the field. My aha? Nobody else is going to remember that I sweated that overtime. Nobody. From then on, it became easier to say no and to let go of work when I left for the day.
Turns out that I’m not terribly important in the cogs of commerce and I prefer it that way! >:-D Yaaaaaaay!
We just need to find our limits! Even if it is my problem, and I won’t be able to finish it within the hours, I’m not going to work any longer for it, if that’s not going to get me paid. And when I get home? I just can’t worry about it. Because if I do, I know I won’t sleep. 😛
Again, I agree!! Even if I’d get paid for the longer hours, I almost never stay the longer hours. It takes too much out of me and the return ($$) is usually negligible, compared to say, my equanimity!
I do get paid on one of my jobs for the longer hours I stay. But I try not to! jobs are a hell, especially if they stand in the way of your hobby or other things. 😦 Buh.
I know. I can’t work right now, but I well remember how my life shrinks to doing for other people instead of doing for myself. I don’t know what the answer is. Part of the answer may lie in having set up a physical space at home that is for hobbies–like having a place for a sewing machine, or a place for painting…. whatever, just so the space is there and can be disappeared into. Once I got my cement and mosaics set up, I didn’t have to spend precious time *getting ready* to do art, could just *do*.
Basically, if we need money, we’re screwed! (Hope Spiders doesn’t read this!) But it’s true, so we HAVE to find away around the work and give ourselves US. Nobody else can fix this.
You’re totally right! Once we need money, and get a job, we’re screwed! And there is no time left for ourself anymore. Which is why my weekends are so precious! Sadly, I sometimes have to work in the weekends, or there are people who want to come over, while I’m all “But I want to have some me-time”. 😦 you have to find a way, it’s like a maze!
I replied up here because our columns are getting skinny!
That’s a perfect word–a maze. Accept what we cannot change and grab what we can!
And, me, too–have to choose between having friends or having my brain have some breathing room so it can express itself. That’s wrong! But there we are…. I have had to learn to say no, even to my guy who is great company. Sometimes I just hafta let him go do, so I can stay home at breathe…. good stuff happens for both of us if I do that.
You’ll be proud of me a bit then – the last 3 weekends I’ve been offered paid work and breakfast bought – and I’ve said no. I need two days off more than I need the money. Well, not really. But I do for mental health reasons!!!
Good for you, girl. It’s just not worth the personal *sacrifice*–when the little voice in your haid says no, it’s good to listen, even if it’s bein’ like a parent who won’t explain and just says No.
Therapy is expensive! It would eat away at the perceived “extra” money! (Now how would I know that?!) My view is that once we get our priorities workin’ for us, stuff like money will show up in its own priority. Uh… clear ? hee hee!
Ditto for the good for you, girl. Most companies will work good people to death – and toss them aside…seriously, you could drop dead and the company would just roll on over and without you – your life is valuable – don’t sell it cheaply – sometimes time off is more important than the little bit of extra money ( and if you work all weekend – you just feel even more dead at work the next week.)
Like, like, like as well and vehemently nodding as well. I’m 5 months away from my blogaversary but am in exactly the same place. I really needed to read this today to keep the doubts at bay and was thinking about writing a post about the affect of business writing on creativity. I hope it’s some solace that you’re not alone, you certainly gave me some much needed solace today- thank you.
I gave solace? Is it because you’re in the same boat? I hadn’t thought of it that way, and I guess that does make me feel a bit better as well! My only business writing is … Well, I guess I should leave that for a protected post. I’m sad because I liked me better when I didn’t have a job. But I also hated that I didn’t have a job. Heheh
Ok. First off its that time of year again. Secondly you had 2weeks without Oirish Tirsday. Thirdly, my dear, you HAVE to learn how to turn work OFF when you get home. This is a MUST and something everyone as to learn. You are NOT paid to obsess over this shit whilst home.
With that said Oirish Tirsday is just a hop skip and a jump away.
That time of year? Do I have a pattern you know that I’m too thick to realise? I usually love autumn and my freak outs are in the spring. I can’t control my dreams, and if I dream of work all night, well, ICK!
I totally need Oirish Tirsday. Maybe a bit earlier so I don’t have to stay up so late? Oh, it’s not us, it’s himself keeping me up as he can get tons done fast now so does it all after the show and leaves me hanging. Maybe I can sleep on the couch!
While springs are hard, and you do love autumn it’s the loss of summer that’s hard for you. Summer is a HUGE boost for your brain which leads to a bit of a crash in autumn. I LOVE autumn too but it’s a tricky emotional time of year.
And while you can’t control your dreams you can do things to get it out so your mind won’t have to churn in dream form. Learning to turn it off will help the dreams.
And blogging here, writing and just plain venting goes very far in helping. Keeping it in is what fuels the brain churning. You gotta let the pressure out of the pot my dear. And of course people, especially the lovely ladies here love to hear what you have to say, bitching or praising. That’s what friends are for. We all have way more in common than you think.
And yes, you most certainly can call earlier.
Thanks, love. There’s a prickly sensation in my nose that wants to be tears, but you know I won’t let it.
If I had any idea how to turn my brain off or redirect it, I surely would! Even the books aren’t enough lately. I was having a really good dream the other morn but then the neighbours’ car decided it wanted to start shrieking its alarm at 5 am. Sigh.
(ahem. me again. crying is a great vent–it forces us to breathe, which we probably haven’t been doing so well while we’re stomping down on feelings.
I’ve just started crying again after more than 5 YEARS of being unable to cry. It’s weird to be crying now, but hell, it’s kinda human of me. >:-0 We’re here. See?!)
I understand the feeling that sometimes being “angsty” seems to produce better art and writing then being “comfortable.” Also, I understand being busy, and having to CHOOSE which art you will indulge. It’s the reason I hardly ever draw anymore. And you can’t be clever and funny all the time. Sometimes we’re just…maudlin. And sometimes inspiration strikes when you’re doing one of these other things (like reading…)… I mean, I was watching Penn and Teller and got a blog article out of it, for fuck’s sake. Try not to get too discouraged… and if all else fails…rig a bobby trap for hubs. You’re bound to get a blog out of that! LOL
I saw bobby! I was going to jump in and edit it for you but Ms L started having too much fun. You know I don’t start my posts trying to be funny, it’s the act of writing that brings it out. And when I don’t want to write, I feel sort of dead. Bit of a catch-22.
(I thank you for the opportunity for fun. My fun is so limited as to be nonexistent! I laughed! {instead of crying!})
hahahahahahha rig a booby trap for hubs! hahahahahaah!
yes…BOOBY… I meant BOOBY trap. LOL
>>blushes<<
wait! why are you blushing?! does Freud have to swing in for you too?!
Always. It’s genetic.
the blushing or Freud swinging? <:-o
I didn’t even SEE the “bobby” until you pointed it out! I coulda really missed something there! hahahahahaha But it does bring Freud swingin’ in on his manly-man vine to ask: hmmm…. ” Miss Alien, vhat did you tink about zee bobby?”
Actually… I don’t think he’s read this post. And I’m pretty sure not the comments. But if I can get a friend with a video camera on standby, I have a trap for him I’ve been saving for a couple of years! AND I might be able to incorporate it into a Halloween costume. Oh yeah. Thanks! Boobies ARE great! *snicker*
oh my lord! how funny! hahahahahaha
hey, I know the blog is XXXX-rated, but really, Spiders, leave the boobies out of the picture. Booby! Singular. Big diff! hahahahahah
You haven’t seen my hubby’s! *boom!* *tish!*
ruh-roh, I’m afraid to ask, but curious–whatthehell is hubby’s boom tish!??
am i going to regret, one more time in my life, my curiosity?! >:-D
Hahahah no, that’s me trying to type a drum beat and cymbal crash like they do after a bad joke 🙂 His boobies are normal man-boobs! No booms about them!
hahahahahahahhahaahhaaa! and ahhh ahahahahahahahahahhaha!
(and: WHEW!)
You made me giggle 🙂 I wouldn’t do that to you! However…I want to know what you imagined a boom tish was, in male anatomy?
well, tish made me think of tush, so I had him shakin’ his booty — ba-BOOM ba-BOOM!! ba-BOOM! oh dear!
Have I never mentioned that the man is a dancing fool? CRAZY dancer! Lots and lots of tush-shaking, and everything else! I still haven’t decided if he’s good, or just really enthusiastic!
Ha
Ha
Ha
The
Column
Of Doom!
hahahahahahahahahaahha! on both counts!
dancing sounds like a great release–I’m watching a Fred Astaire movie right now and marveling at the strength and agility!
Aargh, that work life battle. It wouldn’t matter if you were happy in your overwork but you’re not. Vent it now – you don’t want to become Aunty Fester. We’ll read and offer our small change any day 😉
There’s an episode of Spaced (if you haven’t watched, get ALL THREE SERIES NOW) where Brian, the strange artist from downstairs, having finally got a woman, loses his artistic mojo. Can’t paint. And Marsha, the perceptive and occasionally lecherous landlady says, You know what your problem is, Brian? You’re ‘appy.
Brian’s inner lightbulb goes on.
So, maybe yours is a bit the opp. But there’s a reason we have a stereotype of poor, starving artists in garrets. I mean, if Van Gogh had to put in 8 hours clerking, where would we be?
My personal solution is a kind of brain sink strainer. OK, so I’ve got all the usual crap in the sink, but somewhere on another channel that I can’t watch during the day, Kiki and Mojo and mandalas etc are all filtering through nicely. Or at least, I think that’s what happens.
But also, it’s not terminal. You’ll get it back. This kind of stuff happens. I’d quote that bit about the light that burns twice as bright from Blade Runner, but then you’d probably have to come over and squash my brain…..
I do not think I have heard of this ‘Spaced.’ hmm. Must ask Himself who is in charge of getting things off the Internet. Have you seen Moone Boy yet? I’ve only seen ep. 1 but loved it!
*squish*! It’s a good quote. I’m actually surprised I made it past 40 with all the burning I did in the past!
Haven’t seen it, but know peeps involved so will do asap. However, B turns 39 tomorrow, so tonight is Prometheus Take 2 in HD. You watch True Blood?
Yessss spent most of last Sunday watching season 5! Got down to the last 2 or 3 episodes. I’m so glad my hubby doesn’t notice when Alcide is nekkid on screen and I whisper, ‘daaaaamn.’
Oh – C’MON! Alcide is a DOG….now Eric, on the other hand, has a bit of bite, fangyou very much.
Eric used to be the vamp in my dreams of damp, but I’m afraid Alcide makes me bare my teeth and growl! Maybe it’s because I already have a lovely white Irishman that makes the dusky swarthiness so appealing?
You mean blue white, like the results produced by Daz washing powder? Know the type. Am the type.
Ha! How come the people on the Daz ads are all fake tanned? Does it make the washing look brighter? He’s paper white, marble white, especially on his shoulders that have never seen sunshine. It’s pretty – but I’m a brown berry in comparison, even if I forsook the sun for a few years 🙂
I’d read a password protected post. I always read things that are supposed to be secret. 🙂
You’re in danger of getting me started on the rant about the way the 1%, or whatever you want to call the people who wield the financial clubs, kill the spirit of everyone who has to work for an hourly wage by making sure resources are siphoned out so stingily that we all have to fight for them. There’s no good reason so many people should have to choose between fixing the hole in the roof and keeping their hearts alive — certainly not when the work we do and the goods we buy somehow translate into oceans of surplus money for people who could fuck off and do what excited them for fourteen lifetimes without running out of cash. And when the work of the world could be done in far less time than we are usually expected to be at a job, because there is something sacred in our culture about being tied to that wheel.
I miss being able to afford enough time off that I could have days when I didn’t talk to anyone. That’s what I find I need most; just unbroken trains of thought. You don’t write without that, at least I don’t. But then the only novel I ever finished, I was working full time; I just lost a lot of sleep.
Bitch about work and remember this job is not a life sentence.
Bitch I will! I’m not sure how to get the password out to those on my list, without an hours-long email session.
I will have to explain the circumstances of why my employers aren’t part of the 1% in the private post, it’s too specific a job!
Yeah… it’s not that the people you immediately work for are in the 1%, unless you’re a maid for a financier or a clerk in a bank. It’s just that all our work gets turned into profits on goods and stock dividends that somehow keep going to people who already have enough money, even if our work got that money flowing; that’s what I resent.
I’m pretty sure that WordPress has some kind of function where you can select addresses from your follower list and give them a “pass” to enter your site with their WordPress identity. I do that on another blog I go to.
With you here, Spiders. I almost broke something this morning @ 2:35, awake & suffocating underneath a;; the CR*P I don’t want to do in my life. Standing in between me and my favorite way of being. Seems like a lifelong tussle. My dearest friend is also in the exact same boat. Up the creek w/o paddle. So I got mad and got up and got busy with the CR*P & beat back the brush. Til it overgrows again. Did feel a little better, tho. Hugs & head-bonks to ya.
I do feel better when some things are taken off my plate, either by me gritting teeth and doing it or hubby getting sick of hearing me moan and doing it, or it just magically going away (that pile of socks needing darning never just magically goes away, dammit!!)
It is lifelong, and I’m getting old and tired.
And you do know no self-censoring is needed here, right? Crap isn’t even a bad word, is it? 🙂
I totally understand. If you don’t love what you do–if it’s just a paycheck, it sucks the life right out of you. I’m in the same boat. I’ve been struggling to write anything meaningful for months now and for exactly the same reasons as you. It is possible to bitch about work but you have to “genericize” it to the point that it isn’t really any fun or therapeutic. And creativity? Fugeddaboutit when you’re tired all the time. I’ve been escaping into books lately too. Perhaps that’s what I will write about today. Well, you’ve inspired me, so perhaps that’s what we need. To force time into our lives to do the things that inspire us. Obviously we don’t have as much time to do those things but surely there’s a place in our lives somewhere?
I’ve been unable to read anyone else’s posts the last two days! Orish Tirsday is always a hectic evening for me, and the morning – well, I get up “early” and it seems I still don’t have time to comment on blogs. The time difference is so hard too, most of my friends are 5+ hours behind me. I am totally escaping with the books – but then I feel guilty for not doing other things like the stupid dishes or helping make dinner, etc. I also crave the world I’m immersed in and get bitchy when I can’t go and play there!
I have never, ever, loved work. Well, the horse farm was close. I loved it when I got paid to wash a horse or brush her, or tend to a newborn foal, or sit on a tractor and mow grass for hours. But this? Nope.
Holy crap, y’all were having a party over here while I was at work, and talking to Socks!
Your house is so welcoming we figured you wouldn’t mind if we hung out! Sorry about drinkin’ all the likker, tho’! >:-D
‘Sallright, you left my cheap rum behind! As you can tell by my finally having a chance to respond to everyone 🙂
I had so much fun, Spiders–you have a great community here and boyohboy do I need community. I laughed! And laughed! I even barked-laughed! >:-D
And: Happy end of work week!
You totally get an amen hallelujah for that!
what she said!
Password-protected posts: Kathy at Reinventing the Event Horizon does password-protected posts. Here’s a sample: http://reinventingtheeventhorizon.wordpress.com/2011/12/09/the-lord-told-me-to-and-other-sad-excuses-for-holiday-heartlessness/.
I think we email her for the password. … ?? Can’t remember, waaaaaaah!
Work had a nasty way of interrupting life. Sometimes there’s not much you can do about a bad situation but endure. Things will change.
Try not to let unhappiness at work destroy your none work time. Turn it off. Close that door and walk away after work hours
( easier said than done. perhaps wear a rubber band on your wrist and every time you start to talk or think about work. Pull and Snap that band on your wrist so it hurts. Behavior conditioning until you can control it better)
I would caution you about blogging or writing anything online about work. Once it’s online you cannot control it – or where it goes. It is not wise – even password protected. Seriously.
Write it, yes. But best not to publish. (Or At least do a “imaginary world” thing with fake names and fake places) – write your heart out. Be hold it close right now.
I’ve had some of the worst job situations and monsters for bosses.
Things will change.
Reading is good. Helps a lot.
Planning to get back to the horses in some fashion or another. There is a way.You have a talent and special skill. Horses, equipment, clothing, and hay appear in the strangest places…and they are all occupied by people like you…sales, editing, writing, illustration, fashions for man and beast, info on blogs/newsletter about the subject, marketing, research for education, rescue groups…sit quietly and think…than how can you take baby steps on your free time…even leading horses for handicap children would put you in the horse world and who knows where networking with people can take you….
Volunteer work in a field you like often leads to a job down the road once people see your passion. If you venture and try, an opportunity will appear.
(and you do have all those stories about that job rambling around in your head….)
A bad job is miserable, but don’t let it take you down…see it just as a passage.
HUGS
(OK sitting down and being quiet now)
I understand totally. When I moved to take this new job I thought things would be different. They are different, but this creative desire I have inside is still not met. So….. what to do with it? Do I let it go so I can make money? Or, do I dare to continue to work toward my dream?
Truth is, many of us choose the former. I just don’t think I could bear to do that though.
I have less time for writing this semester, but I’m hoping next semester will lighten up a bit. I haven’t stopped writing, but I can’t give as much time to blogging. It’s always a balancing act. Trust you will find a way to keep writing.
I think we can forgive you, as you always put such great effort into your blog posts! Or maybe you don’t and all that funny comes natural 🙂
I just need to remember its FUN! Why would I fight that?!? Eejit.
I was more creative when I worked. I wrote more and better when I worked. Inspiration was everywhere, my contact with people, no matter how hated, fueled my thoughts. And I didn’t realize how very precious that was.
Now it’s gone. Or nearly so. I have all the time in the world, but all those thoughts that so trapped and enraptured me constantly are gone. They’ve flown away to brighter pastures.
Because of my back. The pain took it all away, the drugs took it all away, the everyday no change grind of it took it all away. Most days I can drown out the bone deep sorrow of it by working on one of my millions of projects, if I’m creating something it’s less like death. Somedays it crashes in and I can’t stop crying, which is horrible because I can’t hide it from anyone. It’s to horrible to hide.
On the very very rare occasion that those precious stories come back each word needs to be pulled from molasses first, that effortless flow is gone, and I know the quality has suffered for it. About a month ago I had a couple of weeks of writing come back. I wrote pages and pages of a pointless story that I knew would never be read by anyone, but it didn’t matter. It was something, the words were there even if they needed a tug to get out.
Then, like they all do, the words went away again. After waiting a week or two, hoping they would come back I finally put the notebook back in the sewing room. To gather dust like all of them.
I don’t really know why I’m typing all this, maybe because I needed to say it, maybe for some other reason I don’t know. Now I’ve made my husband sad because he can’t fix it.
I think all that exploded out after reading the words “Where did I go”, because that’s exactly what it feels like, like the me I knew is gone now. Like the woman Kwix married died.
Geez, I’m a ray of sunshine.