Best Laid Plans: April 2018

201804

April plans:

  • Total 7,350 words
    • Write 350 words/day
    • 5 days/week
  • Project: Something/anything. I need to start writing something/anything besides freelance ghost posts and school assignments.
  • Soundtrack: She Wants Revenge (all of it), Blue Stahli (all of it), A Perfect Circle (all of it), Scandroid (all of it), Sunset Neon.
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Best Laid Plans: March 2018 (In Retrospect)

Wordcount goal: 7,700 words.
Words written: ZERO.
Days writing: NONE.
Projects: Also NONE (excepting freelance).

Excuses: Nothing worth mentioning. School, freelance ghostwriting, etc. Basically I’m lazy.

Best Laid Plans: March 2018

201803

March plans:

  • Total 7,700 words
    • Write 350 words/day
    • 5 days/week
  • Project: either Undertow or Death Drive (I seriously need to at least start one of those with some intent of seeing it through).
  • Soundtrack: Grendel (Age of the Disposable Body), Marilyn Manson (The Pale Emperor, Heaven Upside Down), Celldweller (all the instrumental albums), Blue Stahli (same as above), Julien-K (all of it), Covenant (Dreams of a Cryotank, The Blinding Dark).

Best Laid Plans: February 2018 (In Retrospect)

Wordcount goal: 7,000 words.
Words written: ZERO.
Days writing: NONE.
Projects: Also NONE (excepting freelance).

Excuses:

Still sickish. Any time I pick up a cold or flu-like illness, it always ends with a lingering cough that lingers, and lingers, and lingers. I’m better-ish enough that I feel okay leaving the house (I’m not worried about infecting anyone anymore) and I’m coughing infrequently enough that I can go to the movies (which is good, because going to the movies is something I do way too often now*).

I wrote a decent number of freelance blog posts, the agency I’m working with has been good about kicking me quite a few assignments and they pay quickly, so that’s also good. I’m still hustling for an irl job, but getting some money from freelancing is making me less desperate than I’d otherwise be, so it’s not like I’m gnawing my arms off or anything.

That took a turn. Moving on.

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*Remember way back when I wouldn’t go to the movies because there were always too many people and I was always like “omg-crowds!nope-nope-nope”? Yeah, I kind of don’t do that anymore.**
**I’m also really good at picking movies that no one else wants to watch, so I’ll be one of 4 or 5 people in the theater.

On illness

I’m pretty sure I’ve never mentioned here before that I’m sick. I have a chronic immune disorder. Tl;dr: my immune system doesn’t work very well, and in the past it decided to randomly attack my organs.*

What this means is I pick up illnesses like a 90’s kid picking up Pokemon cards. When I worked at the call center, I would get bronchitis a minimum of once per year, because that place was terrible about letting anyone use sick time/any sort of PTO, so people were showing up sick to work pretty much constantly. The call center also didn’t believe in bathroom breaks longer than 2 minutes, which discourages hand-washing (gross),  or assigned seats, or any sort of mandatory desk cleaning (or making disinfecting wipes consistently available), so every surface could be reasonably assumed to be infected unless you’d personally wiped it down that day.

I also have insomnia,** and not sleeping enough demonstrably makes my already-fucked immune system even more worthless.

I’ve been ill with something flu-like for something like 2 weeks now. I’m not sick enough to go to a doctor (thank fuck, because I don’t have money for that)/I don’t think there’s anything a doctor could do for me anyway.

I’m improving, but slowly.

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*”Hey guys! You know what would be fun? LET’S MURDER THE PANCREAS! Rawr!”
**The can’t-fall-asleep/can’t-stay-asleep kind. I despise chemical sleep, so I’ve never been into sleeping pills, but I take melatonin now. It helps a bit, and I usually don’t have that awful chemical hangover the whole next day.

INTERIOR, NIGHT, DARKENED BEDROOM

If you happen to get sick with this year’s plague/flu, and you’re curled up in bed, shaking with chills, half-wake and in and out of fever-dreams, trying to prevent your lungs from evacuating your chest—and your soul from evacuating your mortal coil—you know what’s a really, really fun movie to watch?

IT COMES AT NIGHT.