Eff. I botched it.

Posted on Dec 7, 2011

Back to day one.

On what should have been writing day five of 21 I did the opposite of what I promised I would (write 500 words per day).

Should, should, should. Ugh. Puke.

Many feelings are surfacing around this screw up. I’m pissed off. Pissed off that now I have to start back at day zero and therefore the whole exercise is going to take five days longer. But what am I in such a rush for? I think I secretly wanted to be done before Christmas (but why?).

I also feel like an idiot. This is because I did in fact spend the better part of yesterday working on the blog. There was a bunch of backend stuff to do and wrangling with images and code. Except, then I didn’t do the first priority, which was to write ON the damn blog (rather than do shit behind it). Stupid.

Yes, I’m cranky. I’m cranky and my tummy hurts. It feels rotten. I’m cold. I’m hungry (but I don’t want to eat because of rotten tummy). I’m just an effing mess.

I feel like I never accomplish anything. Ever. Yah, sure whatever, you can tell me I’m exaggerating, but this is my exact feeling right now. And since it’s MY feeling, it’s MY truth. So there.

God, this feels so shitty! I suppose one good thing is that since I didn’t realized I’d forgotten to write until I woke up this morning, that means I didn’t have to go to sleep ridden with the guilt of ‘not doing what I said I was going to do.’ Right. That’s one good thing. All the rest suck.

I could find so many things wrong with everything, everywhere today. But, ugh, wait a sec, I hear that quiet little Voice in the back of my head. She’s asking me ever so softly, Do you really want to wallow in this yuckiness today? She gently inquires, Does resisting and staying in a bitter state help you?

God! Why does she always have to go and interrupt my spazzing! Oh, sure, look at you, with all your wisdom and shit, being kind and reasonable and supportive… Ooh, big fancy enlightened pants over there.

Dammit. She wrecked it, that little Voice. Now I can’t possibly carry on being childish and cranky, kicking at the floor and sneering at the computer screen. She called me out. Eff. Again.

Well, fine then. But I still have a rotten tummy (I won’t surrender that easily!).

I told Hubby that I botched it. He was confused. I had informed him earlier that I did finish an article for a client (which had been awaiting its final piece from the interviewee). So he claimed that I had in fact written something, and wondered why that didn’t count. I reminded him that he was wrong and that it wasn’t really writing, it was more just assembling pieces and hitting the Send button. Hubby said he was just trying to give me an ‘out’ since I was such a wreck about missing day five of the writing experiment. He’s a nice man, that Hubby.