Oops, forgot to take time out to make a post earlier in the week.
What am I working on?
Well, last week I completed my July Camp NaNoWriMo word count.
It was a meager goal, only 15k words for the month, but considering how much I'm just trying to weather through this rather long bout with my depression (according to my calendar it's almost two months now? Sheesh), I'm not complaining. And despite the lack of motivation, I have been able to come up with the beginnings of another plot idea. I'm going to keep it on the back-burner though. I'll likely work on it when: a) my other projects are done, or b) I get hit with a surge of unending energy and focus and inspiration that I can't keep myself from working on a lot of things at once.
Though, just in case I lose my journal that has all of my ideas (good and bad), I'll leave myself with a one-word reminder: "candlelight."
As for the word count itself... I'm not giving one because for some reason it's just too much effort to load up all the things I worked on and calculate how much I typed out (or not) on top of what's already there. I'm not feeling it this week.
How do I feel about the process?
As a quick preface, I like to imagine an alter-ego of myself living out a representation of my current mood. Like if I'm really happy, I'm imagining her flying around and feeling the breeze around her face. Or when I'm angry and the imaginary world she lives in is breaking into pieces and melting into lava to form a volcano. Weird stuff like that. Dunno, it's just something I've done since I was a child. It's fun.
(Note to self: might need to get that checked. Not sure if that's normal.)
Lately, that alter-ego is just walking in the middle of the night in a cold desert. Sometimes she sees the stars and can point out the constellations. Other times, like at the very second that I'm typing this out, nothing's out and all she is is just lonely and cold.
(Not sure what's up with me and trying to get all symbolic, but I'm getting words out and it's working so I'm not going to question it too much.)
Because of this, I haven't done much writing this week, at least nothing that I feel like bringing up just to get the work count on in and calculate it. It just feels like so much work at the moment.
Then again, it's hard to write when every time you send in an application to try to get a job and after every single rejection letter or rejection call, that evil little voice inside likes to rear its ugly head and say, "See? No one wants you. You're pathetic. You can't even get a minimum-wage job. You're not worth it. Just give it up."
You know what? Shut up, voice. No one asked you.
Ugh, I just want a break from the job hunting. It's seriously affecting my creativity and my poor muse just can't compete.
What am I reading?
Haven't done much reading. Still the same reading list.
What else am I doing?
Still job hunting. Trying to find a part-time job while being a full-time student with other responsibilities is... ce n'est pas amusant. I haven't given up, though. I'm still trying. But I feel like I'm slowly getting there.
O kidy zohjy loaa zudrag og O hry smpyjrt trkrvyopm. O kidy vsm'y yslr oy smuzptr. O sz dp idrardd, O'aa mrbrt szpimy yp smuyjomh.