I hate this feeling. Like I’m here, but I’m not. Like someone cares. But they don’t. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.
Status: good. woke up this morning feeling better than I thought I would. Let me explain: I like pho, but apparently something in pho doesn’t like me. Had a big bowl on Wednesday evening, and while eating it I thought, “maybe this isn’t such a good idea”, but I did it anyway. You know, because I’m awesome like that. As the day wore on yesterday, my face became really flushed and I could feel inflammation inside of me, not to mention that I felt like I was coming down with something. As all of this was piling on I’m thinking to myself, I’d really like to get through these next few weeks without any downtime from being sick (so why’d you eat the pho, bro?). In any case, I took some echinacea and some aspirin followed by a good night’s sleep and woke up this morning feeling no worse for wear. Crisis averted.
Tentative plans to hang out with The Tardy Girl on Saturday night (I’ll have to come up with a better descriptor because I’d prefer not to use real names). She doesn’t drink, so it’ll be a dry date, but I’m okay with that. I’d like to cut back in any case. Sunday will see the return of The Blonde Girl (ditto above), who I’m convinced is a party girl on top of everything else which is presentable and practical about her. Her original request was to hang out late on Friday night, but I just don’t want to fuck up my weekend with a hangover on Saturday. I hope you understand. Less enthused about this meeting, but let’s see how this goes.
With a great amount of hesitation, I pulled the trigger on interim living accommodations for when I first arrive on the island. Let the self-loathing begin. It’s a stupid amount of money which is tempered slightly by offsetting income I wouldn’t have earned otherwise by moving straight into my place. I had some cheaper options on the table, but felt that they were too far afield and frankly too much of a downgrade. I also opted not to take my cousin up on his offer because of the length of time I’d be staying at his place. A few weeks is fine, but I just felt like 2 months was tearing the ass out of it a little bit. I’m convinced that I’d end up overstaying my welcome, and I’d like to maintain the integrity of that relationship if I can. Besides, I haven’t cohabitated with anyone in, oh, 30 years and am not really keen on losing some personal space, even if only temporary.
Anyway, it’s done. I’m sure I’ll be revisiting this decision for weeks to come.
Working my way through the next set of photos from my weekend outing, and suddenly realising that it’s all about the photography right now. To the detriment of my writing. That’s okay because I’d like to dispose of the equipment before I leave and I need a little lead time for that.
Posted to IG for the first time in a while this morning. Not overly impressed with the above photo, but thought it fell into the category of “good enough”. I have better ones to share from the weekend outings, and I haven’t even touched the photos I took on Wednesday. So, I have lots to work on. On top of that it’s such a beautiful warm day that I’m going to head out this afternoon and take more photos in Chinatown and Kensington.
Right now I’m listening to the Tim Ferriss podcast where he interviews Neil Gaiman, and there are two things that immediately jump out at me. The two of them in particular, and Stephen King touched on this as well, have found places to write which are outside of their homes, so they can have that separation between home and work life. Tim described it as a malaise, and I suppose that’s true. For me, it may be some of what fuels my lethargy at times. So, that’s the first thing.
The second is the word count produced by Neil Gaiman. While he didn’t provide an exact daily word count, his process seemed much different than Stephen King’s, and the time he takes to work through the process is much longer. On that note, John Green was very similar to Neil, although he specifically called out his word count which was 2k per month.
That gave me a bit of comfort. I don’t feel so far out of left field now. There is room for improvement, of course, but at least it sounds like I’m on the right track.
Ok, I’m going to end it here and go and take some photos….