Thurs. 06.18.20 – Yes, I persist in writing my time stamps as MM.DD.YY.
Speaking of time, once again, it seems as if years have passed since March and yet it was just last week or two ago. My intense Covid dreams have faded to normal interesting dreams upon wake up, which would be considered good, if my intestines had not decided to take the intense baton from my brain.
This week I have had the worst IBS that I have experienced since the last few months of grad school in 2006. Outwardly there appears to be no particular reason for IBS-M to attack; I am eating healthfully, I am exercising every day, I am making an effort to sleep a full night’s sleep, I have interesting web dev work to do, and stories to write.
Then my brain reminds me that I am anxious, alone in self-isolation, and trying to make big decisions about the next month in the midst of huge world and national turmoil. Whereupon that creep the Big D depression has been knocking on the door this week, asking to be let in.
I told the big D to f’ off.
And so, my bowels decided to join the party. Hello, gas, burps, thrumming, and pain – will you please go join the big D and find a pigeon or squirrel to bother?
On top of all of this, my words for writing have seemed to desert me. I have hypologia at the best of times when it comes to writing of any sort and have to dam them up to get a couple of hundred for this blog or a couple of thousand of them rounded up for a short story or chapter of a novel.
When I am coding or thinking about systems structure, any hope of writing seems to desert me entirely. I can play sudoku, but not write when I have been doing web deb. This is also true about design and art. When I am find myself designing, I find it hard to draw or paint or vice versa in the same day or within two days.
Oddly, the act of photography seems to occupy a completely different sector of my creative brain and I can take photos nearly every day. I can’t edit them every day. Most of the time, I have to be super excited about a photo and want to post it here or on Flickr before I will open Lightroom.
I have hopes that if I write out my thoughts of the things above, that I will be able to turn the fiction spout back on and get at least a trickle of words. Even a trickle every day will feed one small story.