Everything feels like it has been slightly out of phase for the past few days. It’s not that anything is wrong in particular, it’s just that nothing seems to line up quite right and I’m finding it very distracting.

Over the past two days I acquired three rejections of various stripes: we’ve gone with another candidate, we’re not proceeding with the agreement, we receive many excellent submissions… It was like a starter kit for collecting a complete set of rejection letter jargon. Which is fine. I find myself feeling strangely ambivalent about it- like the news actually belongs to somebody else. Which, I guess, is preferable to being cut to the quick with each new decline. I joke that it means that I’m headed in the right direction, but it’s not really a joke: I need to be collecting rejections or it means that I’m not pushing myself hard enough.

On top of that I’m currently dead in the water with my writing thanks to a recalcitrant muse. For a few days I was forcing myself to work on the story anyway, but I found myself cutting apart the work only to have to stitch it together again only to cut it apart only to stitch it together over and over again. So I elected to take a break. I think maybe I need to do some writing by hand instead of trying to work on a computer where the cut/paste function is too tempting.

Luckily, (unluckily) I have a perfect distraction: the cat has suddenly decided that our bed is her litter box. The Curmudgeonly Lion arrived home yesterday to discover a little heap of leavings on that comforter: just wet enough to have soaked through the cover to the comforter itself. So everything needed to be washed. I could fit the cover and the bedspread into one load but the comforter was going to need to be a load all of its own so I draped the soiled half off the side of the bed and huddled under the remaining half for the night.

Well, for most of the night, anyway.

I awoke to the light of a flashlight in my eyes.

“Your cat’s peed on the blankets.” The Curmudgeonly Lion told me. “She’s been running laps for half an hour.”

I turned on the light and groped for my glasses. Sure enough: there in the piled folds was a little yellow puddle not yet sunk in.

“She’s probably pooped all over the house by now.” He muttered, peevishly stalking from room to room in search of further evidence of litter box indiscretions. The bath mat also turned out to be a victim.

The litter box was clean so there was no obvious excuse so now the cat has earned herself a trip to the V-E-T and I get to do extra loads of laundry for the next three days.

My favorite.

Everybody gets to be equally unhappy.

So I’m slogging along with this slightly distracting sense of being out of phase with myself. My mind feels full but nothing comes out. My body feels jittery but also like it is on the verge of falling asleep. I keep slouching like I have no energy, yet tensing my shoulders like I’m carrying the weight of the world.

I just hope this is temporary.

~ by Gwydhar Gebien on August 24, 2018.

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