Wrecking Ball

I normally do these at the end of the night but, well, that just means I've done it that way twice now and I've been trying to get into a habit of blogging. But, well, THERE ARE FIVE LIGHTS!!! I'm the boss and I'm bending my rules for myself. Just can't trust those past iterations to leave the place in good working order, you know, have to continuously readjust and reassess the business plan. Rather than wait until I'm tired and fresh out of the energy and time to put my ideas to paper, let's review right now.

Anyhow, met my scheduled demands for once. Plenty of the same and something a little different did indeed occur today. I might have even had a hand in it all. Didn't get much blogging done, mind, although it might not look like it to you. Sorry, dinosaurs, you've just met a hell of a motherlover. Because I'm loving this mother so far. And I'm just getting started.

Getting a little cocky, I know, but today I attended orientation for a school I'm probably not going to. And went to class at a few others that don't offer orientation at all. Reaching out to new friends and old places. So, my mind is bursting with possibilities and posts and connections and things I'll probably never bother to get to. You see, I've realized I have a very expensive brain on my shoulders and that I haven't really been doing much of anything with it. But investing in education is never money misspent. It's all about improving yourself. I'm one of those people who just can't grasp the sunk cost fallacy and will redouble my efforts when my investments sour.

Like writing, when I'm stuck and staring at the page I try and write *harder*. Not to hammer through my writer's block, no, because I don't have writer's block, I have writer's lock - too paralyzed by options and choices and technique to pull things together. Striking up the band's not the problem with me, it's getting my act together. Because if I've been taught nothing else by a frighteningly misapplied liberal education it's how to teach myself. In any number of ways. I've been investing in myself, in my education, for years and years even if I never knew it because I was looking at things the wrong way. My eyes have been opened, though, and I've discovered new perspectives and points of view. A writer, for example, would say that I've been stacking up tools in my tool box until it's fit to bursting. But they, like me, like metaphors like that. And my problem is reaching in there and figuring out which one to pull out.

Which is to say I've been thinking about a lot of things, like usual, but through the filter of writing. What I'd really like to write, when I write, some poems. But I suck at it. It's all down to something that an engineer might call economy of motion but a poet calls writing a poem. But, get a poet to write a novel and you might just have something, right? Remind me to talk about art books some time down the road. When I'm stuck at writing I don't try and plug away, I try and write something else. An exercise, a challenge, a game, a joke, something, anything to keep the pen moving.

So, no, I've been busy and haven't made much progress on my novel but I'm just about to sit down and hack some stuff out. Out like a spot.

On the auction block for tomorrow? Things precious for their worthlessness. If I get around to finishing that post, anyway.

Random thought: People always forget about the second part of passive aggressive.

Outlook: Cautiously optimistic. That I'm about to take a bit chunk out of the world, that is. It's all to the good, though, as I'll pay it back in trade.

[1] - Didn't set the eggtimer but guestimating gets me just over twenty minutes. Lot less editing this time around, too.