Well, what a couple of miserable few posts I've made recently. January is a terrible month and the old enemy (depression) coupled with some unpleasant events can lead to some dark moods. I've not been looking for sympathy, just to vent a little, which everyone needs to do. So, no apologies. Oh, and the not drinking ting fell to the wayside. Not a problem, but it was a good couple of weeks off and I felt better for it. Moderation as they say. I can never drink more than one day a week really anyway.
Well then, lots to do. I'm still not earning any money from my writing at the moment but sitting on one's arse and complaining only makes it worse. As Adrian Mead says, you get what you put in. This time of year puts me in mind of a friend I lost a few years ago at far too young an age and reminds me how much time we all have. I'm not getting any younger. Essentially, we have nothing to lose in aiming high in life. Keeping disciplined and structuring work is important. I've three writing projects on the go at the moment, all in very different stages. One last revision of a feature involving rewriting scenes the villains appear in, finishing the outline for a horror and the new job collaborating on a sitcom idea, something I've never done before. And so I am trying to structure my day more, making sure that everything that needs me attention gets it and in the proportion it needs.
The days are getting lighter.
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
Monday, 9 January 2012
New Year Schmear.
I ended my last post claiming the next one would be positive. Best laid plans...
Nine days into the year and I haven't blogged. Have I nothing to say? Not sure. Only that I feel that life is dominated by worry right now. Not life threatening, or anything. Just worry and my old friend anxiety. Not earning enough money. At all. One of those times when things seem bleak and I wonder what the point of it all is. Years spent learning about filmmaking and screenwriting and I seem to be nowhere. I feel old and like I'm staggering around in the dark on my own. Really old. Have I wasted the past two decades?
Still trying to write but it's difficult just now. House in partial upheaval at the moment as a good friend of mine of re-doing our woodwork from the just-not-right-at-all dark brown to white. Makes the main hall seem like a different room. A relatively simple task like getting rid of dark outlines makes a hell of a difference.
Quit booze. Made a fool of myself on New Year's Day. A week into sobriety and have been tested a few times already and didn't fall off the wagon. Resolute. Good. I don't want a drink again for a long time. Even a few pints will make me tired the following day and getting pished knocks me over for two days. This isn't age. Always been that way.
Looking at some of the yo-yo nature of my posts, I sometimes wonder if I'm bi-polar. Unlikely. But the niggling little thought about mild Aspergers still pecks away. Not something to be joked about.
Who knows what the rest of the year will bring? Something better, I hope.
It's good to vent.
Nine days into the year and I haven't blogged. Have I nothing to say? Not sure. Only that I feel that life is dominated by worry right now. Not life threatening, or anything. Just worry and my old friend anxiety. Not earning enough money. At all. One of those times when things seem bleak and I wonder what the point of it all is. Years spent learning about filmmaking and screenwriting and I seem to be nowhere. I feel old and like I'm staggering around in the dark on my own. Really old. Have I wasted the past two decades?
Still trying to write but it's difficult just now. House in partial upheaval at the moment as a good friend of mine of re-doing our woodwork from the just-not-right-at-all dark brown to white. Makes the main hall seem like a different room. A relatively simple task like getting rid of dark outlines makes a hell of a difference.
Quit booze. Made a fool of myself on New Year's Day. A week into sobriety and have been tested a few times already and didn't fall off the wagon. Resolute. Good. I don't want a drink again for a long time. Even a few pints will make me tired the following day and getting pished knocks me over for two days. This isn't age. Always been that way.
Looking at some of the yo-yo nature of my posts, I sometimes wonder if I'm bi-polar. Unlikely. But the niggling little thought about mild Aspergers still pecks away. Not something to be joked about.
Who knows what the rest of the year will bring? Something better, I hope.
It's good to vent.
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