Nope, not today. Somehow, I am still recovering from this illness. It’s been almost six days. This is silly. Second time this year I’ve been sick for this long. More evidence I need to work on my overall health. Assuming I get an opportunity. (See yesterday.)
At least today I have an excuse for feeling flat-out exhausted, as opposed to the times I feel that way for no good reason. However, it is still getting quite old. Especially the mental part. The complete drain on creativity that makes me write these stupid rants for five minutes instead of something more interesting and inspired.
I keep telling myself “at least I’m writing”. Which is true. But it also isn’t accomplishing the real goal of this project: to remind myself why I enjoy writing and storytelling, to practice the craft, and to eventually write longer things, even if it”s in short bursts. These rants are really just filler. They’re not even particularly poetic or elegant as some of my expositions on depression. They’re really just streams of consciousness.
One day I’ll feel better, right? Sometimes I think I’ve been telling myself that for years. It never sticks. It seems to be shorter and shorter spans as I get older. Probably because I don’t treat myself very well. It certainly doesn’t feel like a sustainable path. But I guess the same could be said for life in general.
I still wonder how much I could do with a year off. If I could get my life back in order. Get my head on straight. Not feel like I’m bouncing from one stress to another.
Maybe this week I’ll win the lottery.