144 - Crap Day

Sometime around lunch my mood took a decisive turn for the worse. Not sure what it is, just suddenly felt blah, and stayed that way for the rest of the day. I still haven't pulled out of it. I love rainy days, and I'm all about the drear, but I think the length of the day is starting to get to me. I barely get home and open the blinds before it's time to close them again and turn on a lamp. Somehow I've become psychologically conditioned that when it gets dark, the day's over, I can't accomplish anymore until the sun comes up again (and since I'm not a morning person... or as I call it 'mourning'... I'm at a significant disadvantage). To be honest... it's starting to feel Seattle'ish around here... I don't think the sun's been out for almost a month. My reaction to it is a little disappointing, because I have always thought Seattle would be a lovely place to live... misty rain... grey days... and nature. Now I'm having doubts.

That and I was supposed to break it off with party guy tonight, and even though I don't know him well that I should care, I've been dreading it. Tonight he called me while he was at work, on break, so I couldn't bring myself to lecture him, knowing that he'd have to go back and work on someone's airplane afterward... I did manage to work into the conversation that I don't drink very often, hoping it would turn him off and I wouldn't have to do the dirty deed... no such luck. I must be more interesting than I think I am. Guess I'll do it tomorrow night when I know he's home.

I did have one nice moment at the end of the day, and it lifted me out of my funk for a little while (it lasted until I got on the road, and then that moment of levity was stolen from me by the turtle-car in front of me). I got a surprise call from a co-worker, and got to talk about writing for a little while.

His name is Marc Schooley, and his book, The Dark Man, was recently published, so he knows all about what I'm going through, and then some. Anyway, his book was written up in the company newsletter around the time I was putting my website together, so I linked to his website on my writing page... but I never told him I did it. I guess I'm not the only one who uses Google analytics, because he was checking traffic sources to his website and mine came up as a referring site so he checked it out and called me. He said he didn't know I was a writer. I admitted that until recently I didn't call myself a writer, that I felt like a phony saying it unless I was published, but finally realized that it didn't matter whether I was published or not... I write... and I love to write... so I'm a writer.

It's always nice to talk to someone who can understand what that's like. He talked about the joy he feels when he writes, and he understands how easy it is to get off track, to get out of the habit of writing, and how it feels when your characters decide they don't like the direction you're going. I told him a little about the story I'm working on now. He's also working on a second book (not a sequel yet, this one is completely new). But the best part is that he is going to give me a copy of his book -- how cool is that? Very nice of him, and I'm excited to get ahold of it and see what it's all about because it sounds really good.

After work I went grocery shopping, came home and wolfed down a chicken leg... I seriously reminded myself of the vulture at the Renaissance Festival, picking the leg clean in under a minute... it was sooooooooo good. Then I made some buffalo dip for my work party tomorrow (nothing as exciting as Kate's work do's are... our highlight is going to be a Jib-Jab video I made of us managers, and another of the supervisors... we're getting buck wild I tell ya!). I admit it.... I ate some of the dip... I had to know if it was good. It was. Now I'm waiting for the dishes to be done so I can spoon it into the fancy-schmancy party dish and stick it in the fridge and go to bed.

Sleep. Oh how I need you.