Right. So I'm one more year older, and my three-day weekend went relatively quietly. Monday (my birthday) could've been better, really, but circumstances (as always) threw a wrench into things, and I just did what I could to enjoy what was left of a so-called "spa day" (read: lazy day). Man. One stinking day a year! Is that too much to ask? Jeebus.
Anyway, one thing I tried to do to celebrate my birthday was to go out for lunch with the hubby on Sunday, and while the food was good and the location was nice and comfy, I really wasn't into it. As in I wasn't in the right frame of mind to really enjoy the outing like I used to when I was younger. It almost seemed a chore to me, and I was too brain-foggy and somewhat sleepy to give a crap. I liked the food, of course, but conversation turned one-sided since I wasn't at all 100% there mentally and emotionally (see: brain fog and sleepiness). Andy had to take over the conversation while I satisfied myself with listening and dropping an occasional word or two -- and that was it from me.
The thing is that this experience wasn't unique. I've been like this for a while now, where I really want to go out for a change of scenery or something, and when we do go, I end up disliking it because I couldn't get into it for whatever reason. Usually it's something like mental fatigue and almost like a physical draining.
I wonder if that's my introversion expressing itself in extreme, which seemed to have started sometime in my 40s. I've always been repulsed by crowds and noise, but when I was much younger, I could manage both and sometimes could even find a bit of enjoyment from people-watching or something -- like sitting at a table, drinking or eating and simply watching folks walk around. Nowadays, I really would rather spend my weekends at home, where I'm comfortable and am able to really let go and enjoy quiet pursuits like writing and reading. Sometimes watching a show or a movie on Netflix.
The world outside's moving quickly, and at times I don't recognize it anymore, but I'm still able to go with the flow, though at the same time, I can't be immersed in it like I used to. It's far too draining on a number of levels, and my birthday lunch this past weekend really made me face that truth. That said, it's not as though I'm doomed to live like a hermit for the rest of my life. I can still go out, but the only outdoor activity I've been able to enjoy is a quiet stroll with Andy somewhere. Somewhere near, by the way, so that we reach a certain distance before turning around and strolling back home.
So, yeah -- it's kind of funny (tragi-comic?) how natural tendencies find a fuller or more extreme expression the older I get. I think you can only imagine how I took to the lockdowns when they happened in 2020. I LOVED IT. I loved the peace and quiet, and I loved the (enforced) down time. Mind you, I paid dearly for that when the world started moving forward again and places of business reopened, but until that moment, I was seriously blissed out.
One thing I did do that left me all giddy and excited was write another round of postcards for swing states for the upcoming election. I'm down to the last page of names and addresses, and I've been pacing myself as it's very difficult not to get carried away once I'm on a roll. I've already hit up my sister for more work, and she'll be sending me a batch of cards for another state. Really looking forward to those!
And now regarding the side project I talked about before -- it's a no go. For real. I tried to put a bit of time into it on Monday, and it was excruciating. As I've noted, it's a challenge I gave myself, working on something that's way outside my comfort zone, and I've come to accept it's not me. It was great while it lasted, of course, not in terms of the quality of the work I managed to write, but the actual process of writing and what I got from it. However, it's a genre that I've never gotten a hang of writing, and while I can write SOME, I frankly can't write more fully.
I can certainly incorporate some elements of it in my works-in-progress, but as a standalone book? Nuh-uh. It was painful, but I'm glad I challenged myself to do it, or I'll never know for sure.
So with that in mind, I'm pretty happy where I am, simply focusing on gothic horror (dramatic and comedic), ghost stories, and dark fairy tales with a touch of gay romance (or a generous seasoning of, anyway). And I don't have to be distracted by something that'll throw me off my center or maybe even peripherally affect the way I write my WiP. I already have enough stories on my plate, anyway, and I should just keep my mind on them and nothing else, or shit won't get done.
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