So, we no longer have a Customer Service Supervisor for our team. Our CSS was promoted last week to the lofty height of Customer Service Manager.
With that, a pay raise, of course, and a couple of more people to oversee. We’ve had a few changes going on at work, and this is an outgrowth of those changes.
So, long story short, I’m low man on the cesspool ladder again.
While my career seems to go nowhere, I have been busy at home. I’m writing my fat fingers off, though you’d never know it by looking at how long it took me to get where I am. In my current WIP, I’ve logged a whopping 38.4K words. (Note: “Whopping” is sarcastic.) I added about 3K over the weekend, if you’re the keepin’ score type, because I boasted all about how I’d reached 35K so fast, and how happy I was about this new (to me) writing method.
Well, things got…well, they got interesting over the weekend. I got a little sick and spent some quality time contemplating whether I’d have to see a doctor about it or not. Turns out, it sort of cleared up on its own, which suits me right down to the ground. I don’t like the idea of doctors anymore, and the older I get, the less I like ’em. Medicines either. Pretty soon, I should be perched on a chair on my porch waving a cane and yelling at people to get off my lawn. (Note: “Lawn” is sarcastic; we don’t have a lawn.)
But by Sunday afternoon I felt well enough to return to my writing. Interesting choices with interesting outcomes were made, however. I opted to cut my writing short on Saturday night (wasn’t feeling all that great, in case you’re not paying attention) because I started to have images run through my head.
I know, that sounds stupid at best. Here’s what I mean.
When I write, I don’t really “write,” I transcribe. I see a “movie” play in my head, and I write, to the best of my ability, what I see. When I’m forcing it, I get images of a single something – guy sitting on a bed, scenery, sky, lighting, crap like that. When it’s flowing, and my creative mind/voice/brain is working, I see little movies. All I have to do is write what I see.
So, this past weekend, I had images flowing. I felt vibrant, the fingers were a-flyin’ over the keys, and I put down a nice set of words. Took a break, went back at, then got really tired with a bout of stomach upset thrown in. My usual digestives didn’t work, and before long I was trying to nap. And not having much success with that either.
I didn’t mind the break. Heck, the images! Images, y’all!
I never did nap, felt all out of sorts and off, and didn’t write much more that night. Next day, I was still sick-ish, so I didn’t get started until later in the afternoon. But when I wrote what I recalled from the day before, the images dried up. No movie. No YouTube blurt. Not even a GIF. Nothing.
I found out the hard way I was finished writing at about 8:30PM Sunday night. I couldn’t go any farther. Everything I wrote was forced, unnatural, stilted, and basically just crap. I deleted the crap, logged what I’d done in the reverse outline, and called it in.
Today is a new day. But it’s filled with the same ol’ crud, and I got no movies. Not yet, anyway. But my loving spouse gave me some good advice about a week ago, and she said, “Maybe if you just sit down and have a conversation with your computer, something will happen.” She was right then. Maybe it’s what I need now.
That, and the winning lottery numbers, so I don’t have to do this working crap anymore.
(Note: “winning lottery numbers” is not sarcastic. Feel free to give them to me if you have them.)
How was your weekend?