I'm really kind of tired of it (but still have made no effort toward remedy): I have been in a slightly bad mood seemingly for weeks now. I can think of a few reasons why, but not all of them are sensible. at any rate the goings-on in my head have been dominated by an expansive sense of being overwhelmed, and not knowing where to start or how to get it all done. the thought crosses my mind that these feelings aren't even mine, that I might be absorbing them in my spongy way from being with someone who is wound like a loaded spring, weighted too heavily already. I don't know. I have, logically or not, decided that solutions to my complaints include going to grad school and buying a car. as furtive as my attempts have been, I'm tired already of the ordeal of figuring out how to make good work with no resources, no time, and not enough training. I want two years of hard effort and an mfa at the end. I want to feel prepared. I want to be professionally qualified to teach. I want something to change. and I want a sweet old rusty ride to drive around in.
I wrote three thousand words last night, on what (in the final week) is actually becoming a story and not just a bad fake novel.