cranky pixels

So, hey, funny thing: turns out after stopping my meds I’m depressed again! I know, right? NO ONE WOULD HAVE GUESSED THAT THIS WOULD HAPPEN EVER.

To be fair, I stopped the meds, like…three months ago? Four? So it’s not like I’m in withdrawal or anything. In fact, despite all the haters screaming about how hard it is to get off Wellbutrin, I had no problem whatsoever. Yay me! Except for the part where I’m all “nothing matters and I might as well jump off a bridge.” Again. Not that I’m going to jump off a bridge; that implies a certain amount of motivation, which I am totally lacking at the moment, but still. The sentiment! The sentiment remains the same, and has come creeping back rather predictably after a year-long medically-induced hiatus. (At the moment I can’t even remember why I stopped taking the meds, but I’m sure I had a good reason. Something about not being able to get excited about anything, I believe…oh the irony.)

Howev! I’m feeling better about the writing thing. I recognize that attempting to write a novel in 30 days when I’m already ridiculously overextended is…well, ridiculous, and sets false expectations in my head, and isn’t actually indicative of my abilities as a writer. Doesn’t that sound rational and right-minded? (It’s a trick.)

In other news, we’ve all been sick with a nasty cold for the past week, which does little to improve my mood. Currently there are things in my lungs, and I do not like to have things in my lungs. As a side note, it is not a good idea to obsessively watch medical dramas while ill. I mention this as a public service to my readers. (Also: it’s never lupus.)

Someone should keep track of all my NaNoWriMo puns. Seriously. It would waste a good five minutes and give you something to do on a Saturday night which does not involve miserably hacking up bits of lung, which is what I’m doing. Oh, I know, waaaah. (Note to those who haven’t noticed yet: I get cranky when I am sick.)

But the last three days of fever and sore throat aren’t the reason I’m dropping out of NaNoWriMo a mere 8 days in. No, it’s much more prosaic than that: I have too much work to do. Work + active toddler + more work + housework = no time. Oh sure, I could something out to make time for writing. Let’s see: sleep? Well, I’m already knackered all the time, and despite all my best efforts I seem to prefer sleeping as long as I can rather than dragging myself out of bed while my angelic offspring slumbers. So that leaves either work of housework. We know what happens when I do not clean the house (SPOILER: the cleaning fairy isn’t real, and by the way, neither is the Easter Bunny) so that’s out.

So I could cut out early from work in order to write, quit maybe the part-time freelance gig I added on a couple of months ago during a particularly worrisome point in our financial cycle, but therein lies a funny realization: I’m unwilling to risk insolvency to further my writing career.

Huh. When did that happen?

The depressing part, of course, is that this means I Am Not A Writer. Which in turn means I wasted a crapload of time wearing lots of black and cramming together enough bad metaphors to fill not one not two but THREE mostly-unfinished novels, the latest of which I was really excited about, damn it. Er, plus the one I’m supposed to be writing now, which I’ve been planning for the past two years, which is even more depressing when you think about all the other things I could have been doing when I was scrabbling down notes and marking articles on Wikipedia and generally being way, way too full of myself.

I don’t know. I mean, I know failing at NaNo doesn’t mean I can never write again, but it’s a pretty good indicator of my commitment level. The way I look at it, I can either be willing to make sacrifices in order to be a writer, or I can quit whining about never having enough time to write. And I’m not sacrificing anything, am I?

In Oregon, we get to vote by mailing in our ballots. This is a fabulous system, but it does have its drawbacks.

Pros: Easy, low-effort, can vote naked or in pajamas.

Cons: No instant gratification, no “I voted!” sticker.

In general, though, I highly recommend the voting-by-mail system, and suggest to all who live in places which are not Portland that perhaps you should consider a change of venue.

That said, I’m horribly anxious about the election, and keeping my eye trained on Mahalo’s Election Results page to see if I can use my mind-power mojo to bend the results to my will. So far it isn’t working, but then again, the polls are still open. If you hear a voice in the back of your head saying “Don’t be a jackass. Vote for Obama,” well: you’re welcome.

On our trip to Bellingham I picked up some lovely wool yarn exactly the shade of the Bellingham sky (gray) and managed to turn it into headwarmers for my two favorite boys. So cute, right? I have enough left to make something else, like a very short scarf or possibly a potholder. Or possibly there’s more than I think there is; I’m a terrible judge of yarn.

They love their hats, though, and people say things about how cute the two of them are when they wear them together. I maintain that they’re cute anyway, but whatever.

Plus I got to update my Ravelry queue, and that’s always a good thing.