I don’t know if I’d say I throw a lot of my heart into my writing. I mean, certainly, I get very attached to some characters. Well, maybe. I don’t know actually. Here is an aside. I was taking an Intro to Philosophy class and on the final, I think we had to discuss some version of the trolley problem and I wrote this whole thing out then, at the end, I reread my answer, then wrote, “You know, I think that is all actually support for [the opposing view] so I think my answer is [the opposing view].” Maybe this whole word vomit is going to be an exercise in that. You can and should stop reading if this is not your cup of tea. 😉
Anyway. So, we had a cancer scare with my dog. We went to the vet’s office today and the vet who saw him had a huge “cytology is so awesome!” boner and she went crazy with the slides. I trust her a bit more than the vet we saw the other day. And not just because she said, “I don’t think your dog has cancer.” Looks like my little jerk face is gonna be ok!! We’ll know for sure in two weeks at his follow up visit.
It took us a long time to get pregnant with the Entropy Machine. The time between, “Ok, let’s have a baby!” and “Hey, honey. Come look at this.” was long and hard. The thing with infertility, it’s one of those hurry up and wait. You wait two weeks, you wait two more weeks. If you’re going to a clinic, it’s come in day 3 and day 7 and then we’ll do another ultrasound and… It’s not like practicing three pointers. You shoot and swish or you shoot and you miss. It’s not an immediate thing. In all that time between events, your mind does whatever it can to stay entertained and/or sane. Infertility is a long, hard slog. Sure, there’s stuff that’s harder. But, for a middle class white lady, it’s pretty tough.
It was in this time, probably about a year into trying that we got the puppies. All my parental needs got thrown onto these dogs. They were so spoiled. I’d take Mr Spock to the office with me, he’d sleep in a chair, say hi to the UPS guy, play fetch down the hallway of my building, we’d take walks around campus (I worked on campus. Did I mention that?), I’d take him to class, it was just shenanigans all day long. He was the office dog. He became adept at car surfing. He’d put his back feet on the backseat and front feet on the middle console. We’d turn and I’d say, “Corner,” and he would crouch down like he was surfing. Just, good times. He was my constant pal. And, in those hard moments, the, “Oh, my period just started. I guess this month didn’t work.” I would have a pile of Italian Greyhounds laying on me. Brigadoon, the other dog would stay home with my father in law. He had a stroke and we’d moved in to save money in anticipation of fertility treatments and to help out. It was a good mix. Briggies would hang out and watch old movies and eat popcorn with grandpa and Spockies would sleep in a chair behind my desk. They were my crutch during a really hard time.
Here’s the best clip on YouTube from Up. I think it really did a bang up job. The music might be off, but hey, copyright stuffs. It was really worth watching in its entirety if you haven’t. I will say, once was enough for me. I didn’t know it had this beginning and I was legit ugly crying by the end of the flashback clip.
Which makes watching that little dog feel miserable so hard. I literally needed him during some of those days. And now, to not have him? I couldn’t bear to see him feel so bad, but thinking about not having him was similarly unbearable. (Did I mention I’m a middle class white lady and I have middle class white lady problems? I KNOW!! Which reminds me, have I written that post about privilege? I can’t remember.)
All my stores I had in my emotional bucket were dumped out this weekend worrying over my little dog. I have zero interest in writing romance novels, I have zero interest going through Just for Kicks for one last read through of the final proof. All I’ve really been able to do is read A Breath of Snow and Ashes because the ridiculous exploits of Claire and Jamie just get more ridiculous with each book. I’ve been short and snappy with the Entropy Machine. Brown dog (the two dogs got renamed brown dog and black dog at my old office and it kind of stuck) has been WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME AS MUCH AS YOU LOVE SPOCK!?
My bucket is empty. Toddlers are hard. I understand the toddler freaking out while everything is so wibbly wobbly right now. She is picking up on the holy shit! and needs her boundaries reinforced. She’s just doing what she’s supposed to do. But, being calm and understand is such a struggle. At least I am able to tell her that I’m feeling annoyed, that I’m sad, that I’m angry. I think emotions are healthy and tell her that too. “It’s ok to be angry, but it’s not ok to hurt people.”
I think this is the hardest part of being an indie author. I want this. But there’s no one else to really push me forward. There’s no one to call me and say, “Hey, it’s a work day. Where the hell are you?” I still have work to do. The EM was fussing and having a hell of a time going down for sleep tonight. I said, “Ok, momma has some work to do.” and left to write, then she started to cry again. Then I go back in and back out and more applesauce and just, ugh. I have 300 more words to write to stay on goal and I am just dragging. I want to get in bed with my dogs and crash. Or… maybe I use this towards my word count today. It’s writing, right?
I can at least relax knowing my dog isn’t in imminent peril. We’ll see how he does over the next couple days and hopefully, he will turn it around and I can get back to my wordmonkey adventures 🙂
Final thoughts: Emotional bucket. Once my Lord Spockington is not all broken, we’re going to hit the mountain and greet the dawn. Nothing like the morning’s first light to soothe my soul. And, LuLo4 just got a new folder named MUHFUKKIN HAX to put blog posts in 🙂 Writing’s writing. And thinking about my process is part of my process too. Look at my spin magical word webs. God, I’m tired!