I found myself having a moment last night. It happened somewhere between crocheting dryer ball thingies, eating my delicious homemade enchaladas and crying while watching some stupid baby show on the Discovery Channel. (There was wine too, could have been the wine, maybe)
You see I’m in the stupid baby blues boat, and even though I know that allowing myself to be on that boat is an instant ticket to the menatl ward, I just can’t seem to gather myself up and jump off the dang thing. So go ahead and put a big “C” on my forehead for CRAZY, but I want to be all fat and stay on my no-sleep trend and have another precious, soul eating baby. I’m pretty sure my husband has already contacted the men with the white coats and fluffy padded rooms. (I have a bag packed with crayons all ready to go.)
But reality likes to wave around bills in my face and remind me that we indeed cannot afford another child. Stupid reality being all real and such. So I was sitting there being forced to watch women cry about labor, crying like a baby because I wanted it to be me. (Crazy, yes I get it.) So I turn to the hubble and give him another chance, “You sure you don’t wants to knocks me up?” (add in some winks and another glass of wine) And he gave me his classic response, “Find a way to pay for it.”
And since he refuses to sell his sperm, and selling my own body on the street corner is out of the question I was left sitting on the floor all thinking and drinking. I need an income. A steady income. Something I could keep going even if I was all fat and barefoot at home… What in the hell could I do at home, with no investment, that would pay? Hrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Making stuffs takes money, as does working from home in general. Dog training you can’t do while fat… hrrrmmmmm.
Then my add-ish brain said, “Better get back to work on that novel for NaNoWriMo, not that it matters, all those words and ya never do anything with themmmm…….”
So this all leads up to the question of just how crazy am I really? Am I semi-crazy for having inner conversations, or am I crazy for wanting more soul sucking minions, am I crazy for writting 3 complete novels and never doing anything with them and not seeing the potential for an income. OR am I super uber mucho bein crazy for thinking I can make an income with my “novels”?
And did I really just try to save my post and check my word count? Gah, it’s only the second week of NaNo!
I’m sitting here mashing my keyboard, welcoming you into my craziness because my two main characters are NOT behaving themselves, and I iz scareded of where they might be going next. And yes I just admitted to having no control over what I write. Crazy I am Sam.
And also I need honest opinions. I’m not big on wasting time on big projects, and I don’t really have time to waste. (Hello, can you hear that, it’s my clock, tick-tick-ticking away) I don’t need friendly cheerleading saying things people have to say because they’re my friends and because they’re scared that I might just poke their eyes out with stale cheetos if they give me the real truth. I need truths. (not about the being crazy part and the minion thing) Should I do this? Should I wrap up this NaNoWriMo, and then dust off my computer files, edit a novel and truly send it out there? Can I do this? Or should I throw an extra box of crayons into my bag and wait for the men in white coats to pick me up with my own personalized white long armed jacket? I just don’t want to waste time. If I’m aweful at this, that’s fine, I’m okay with not being a “writer”, I’d still waste my novemebers with writing because it’s fun, I enjoy it… I’m okay with that. And I’m going to shud up now and have my soul sucked out by the minions… ❤
PS. I think attempting to write a blog during NaNo is dangerous, and I’ll try not to do it again. (way tooooooo wordy, gah!!!! 14,000 words and counting folks!)
Double PS. WordPress will not let me use the spell check, and I don’t care. I’m edit free in November!