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C'est Ma Vie
Mar. 24th, 2003 06:33 pmI can't win.
I don't clean the house? I have to dig to find things and I feel like a slob when I can't find the piece of paper I need to pay my mother back rent. (I don't give her cheques anymore; she always forgets to put the buggers in one at a time and so I get a couple of hundred quid taken out of my account at a blow.)
I do clean the house? I don't remember where I put anything and I feel like an idiot when I strongly suspect I've thrown away that piece of paper.
Now when I get home tonight, I will wind up digging through the bags of detritus waiting for dumping as well as through various stacks of paper and 'important bits' drawers, hoping I haven't. Cos I've already rung her to say I thought I'd lost it and then found it again not ten minutes after making the call (leaving a message, actually). And if I still can't find it, I will have to call my mother, tell her I'm not trying to dodge her ("No, I'm not in any financial trouble, Mum... yes, I would tell you if I was, Mum...") and get the information I require. Shit, I'm getting sick of this...
And of course, Mother's Day is coming up. God help me.
My return from Brighton was ... not exactly eventful. After writing my last entry, I went out to a bar, had a drink, chilled out some and then whaddya know? I was writing. Maybe it was because I vented all that vitriol about not wanting it to be an obligation. I dunno. But with Buffy on crack being an ongoing concern, I still have to wonder if all this is really what I want. *shrug* I suppose, if the wages of writing are the kind of stuff I get from my friends and those freakoes in the Community, I'll have to take the chance. Much as I don't like having my nose rubbed in it, MintSauce and the others have a point -- writing is my life. Even if I never make one red cent out of it, I'll always have to do it.
I'm considering pulling some overtime tomorrow. The money would be good and the backlog's getting stupid again.
Thess
I don't clean the house? I have to dig to find things and I feel like a slob when I can't find the piece of paper I need to pay my mother back rent. (I don't give her cheques anymore; she always forgets to put the buggers in one at a time and so I get a couple of hundred quid taken out of my account at a blow.)
I do clean the house? I don't remember where I put anything and I feel like an idiot when I strongly suspect I've thrown away that piece of paper.
Now when I get home tonight, I will wind up digging through the bags of detritus waiting for dumping as well as through various stacks of paper and 'important bits' drawers, hoping I haven't. Cos I've already rung her to say I thought I'd lost it and then found it again not ten minutes after making the call (leaving a message, actually). And if I still can't find it, I will have to call my mother, tell her I'm not trying to dodge her ("No, I'm not in any financial trouble, Mum... yes, I would tell you if I was, Mum...") and get the information I require. Shit, I'm getting sick of this...
And of course, Mother's Day is coming up. God help me.
My return from Brighton was ... not exactly eventful. After writing my last entry, I went out to a bar, had a drink, chilled out some and then whaddya know? I was writing. Maybe it was because I vented all that vitriol about not wanting it to be an obligation. I dunno. But with Buffy on crack being an ongoing concern, I still have to wonder if all this is really what I want. *shrug* I suppose, if the wages of writing are the kind of stuff I get from my friends and those freakoes in the Community, I'll have to take the chance. Much as I don't like having my nose rubbed in it, MintSauce and the others have a point -- writing is my life. Even if I never make one red cent out of it, I'll always have to do it.
I'm considering pulling some overtime tomorrow. The money would be good and the backlog's getting stupid again.
Thess
