I have at least another chapter of Fruvous’ new life mapped out in my head, but after a lot of pretty rough sleep, I am in no fit state for writing fiction, so it will have to wait.
Right now, even writing my usual loose prose is taking a fair bit of effort.
The usual good/bad sleep dichotomy is of course present. Am I mentally fried because I slept very poorly due to my sleep apnea, or am I mentally fried because I slept very well and that led to me catching up on missed REM activity and that, in turn, left me in a drained and fragile state resembling that of a Biblical seer right after a vision.
Honestly, I could go either way. But if I had to guess, based on the vaguely haunted feeling in my head and the slight echo in my thoughts, I’d vote for the latter.
I hope my readers (hello, you wonderful people!) are enjoying the recent Fruvous storyline. I know it started off dark and got even darker but he has found a new forever home with much, much better people now and I swear any future tales will be a heck of a lot more pleasant.
It started off Jack London but from now on it will be James Herriot, with maybe a little bit of Beatrice Potter thrown in for good measure.
And of course, the whole thing has been a very important form of therapy for me. His story is my story transmuted into fiction via the magic of cute fluffy animals.
How furry is that?
I will, in passing, give myself the usual reminder that I really should write more fiction. It’s both good for me emotionally and makes more sense commercially as it would be a lot easier to sell a book about the adventures of a cute fluffy fox than to get people interested in my somewhat sluggish and event free biography.
But that’s the nice thing about being a writer. You don’t have to be interesting yourself. Your writing can be interesting for you!
Not that I consider myself utterly boring. I am, in fact, quite fascinating to listen to if you are of an intellectual bent.
I suppose that means I really should try podcasting. Perhaps my skills of conversation and oratory would make me a positively spellbinding voice to listen to in the car or while you’re getting your 10,000 steps in or whatnot.
Actually, maybe not in the car. I have been known to be so engrossing to listen to that it causes the driver of the vehicle to miss our desired exit.
Listening to me in the car might not be safe!
Of course, then I would once more have to face the cold hard wall that is the challenge of trying to promote my content.
I know damned well I could make a fun and entertaining podcast. It’s convincing people to listen to the damned thing that daunts me.
I really do need an agent. Or manager. Or babysitter. I dunno, someone who can provide the competence and confidence I lack so that I can just concentrate on laying those golden eggs.
The irony is that I know I could promote somebody else. Just like I know I can be a great proofreader and editor for someone else’s work.
It’s that deadly feedback loop that happens when I am dealing with my own work, which is like a part of me or a child to me, that things go bugfucky.
There’s a reason you’re not allowed to perform surgery on your own kid.
More after the break.
And the gates slammed shut
Went to refill my water in the bathroom. Figured I might as well enjoy a nice luxurious pee into an actual toilet (as opposed my receptacle) while I was in there. Realized mid-pee that I also really needed to poop. Got that done, then stood up to resume my usual kind of daily activities.
And that’s when something slammed shut somewhere in my large intestine and my balls started to ache dangerously and my head throbbed and I knew I was in for a very rough time of it.
Not entirely sure why those things – gut ache, balls ache, and head ache – tend to happen all at once with me when my IBS is acting up. Hard to say what the root cause is and what is a reaction to said cause.
All I know it that it’s not a great time to b me right now. Feels like someone tied a knot in my guts then wrapped them into a bow. My poor testicles hurt like I’d been lightly kicked in them and my head is broadcasting that “sick headache” feeling of combined pain, pressure, and nausea from somewhere in the vicinity of my “third eye”.
Can’t eat supped in this state. Luckily I have a couple of tangerines here and I should have no problem getting those into me at least.
They are a pleasantly flavorful and low intensity, low commitment fruit.
Plus I have some of the latest mix here too. That is peanuts, sunflower seeds, and our old friend, sesame sticks.
Still don’t know why said sticks help me sleep. I have poked around a bit and couldn’t see any obvious candidate for what micronutrient they contain that might do the trick.
Doesn’t really matter. Until further notice, I’m going to keep eating them, and enjoying the deeper and more peaceful sleep they bring.
My sleep is still pretty bad, but it’s much better than it was. I hardly ever get that painfully bright blank feeling in my mind any more.
That shit was scary. Made me feel over-awake and twitchy, and it felt like at any moment it could grow to engulf my entire mind and I would end up a vegetable in some back ward just smiling like an idiot all day, vacant as an empty apartment.
And the worst part was to a very dark part of me, that sounded good.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.