I Hate Being Negative

I just finished reading Stef what I wrote this morning, the final three or four pages of the submission I’ll be sending off, hopefully, tomorrow. The pages weren’t perfect but I was pretty impressed with what came out of me, especially considering the quality of my mood. Maybe it was the quality of my mood that produced such good stuff amidst all this stress, but I’d hate to think that was it. I’d hate to think that I have to be in a bad mood to be a good writer.

There is so much to be upset about these past couple of days. In the big picture, all of this bullshit will amount to nothing. But it’s hard to look at the big picture when you’re stuck in the one shitty little corner of it that the artist never finished. Losing the bank card, getting pulled over, my boss hating me again, my window breaking—I have plenty of reasons to be pissed off. I would like so much not to be, though.

The place where the negativity has really affected me is, once again, in my responses to what I’ve been reading. I thought I had such profound things to write about this time, that my annotations were going to be brilliant. I sat down to write them tonight and they’re just pure shit. I’m kind of ashamed to be turning them in. I guess I’m just hoping that my advisor will understand and that the next ones will be better.