There are times when I feel like I’m only of value for two things: To my employers, how much work can they get out of me for the money they pay, and to everyone else, how much money I have for the things they want. I’m a walking, talking, income-outgo equation. Nobody wants to know what’s on my mind or hear about my day. I’m just here to shut up, smile, nod, and make sure I pay my bills on time. Or pick up the tab. Or cough it up for some surprise expense or another.

In case you’re wondering why my writing output fell off again, yes, I’m fighting my way through another depressive period. Paradoxically the summer weather is both helping and hindering my efforts. The full-spectrum sunlight and blue skies help, but the oppressive humidity and heat sap my energy something terrible. Living my entire non-work existence in my bedroom with the noisy rattling air conditioner only reduces the temperature factor, it sure doesn’t help in any other way.

Is it autumn yet?

I couldn’t very well leave that post as the last word on the journal for a week or more, now could I?

So I’m feeling better today. Not 100%, but better. I still don’t think I’m tackling a big writing project any time soon, but I’m percolating on some possible creative outlets that might be better suited to what skills I have… and what skills I’m curious to learn. The webcomic, after all, mostly came about because my father gave me a very nice camera and I desired a fun way to learn to make the most of it. Most of the better things I’ve done in my life are because they were tied to discovering new toys and building a new skillset.

Play to your strengths, they say. Well, I happen to be very good at learning-through-tinkering. Now I just need to find the best new choice of outlet for that combination.

Watch this space, folks.

Let’s call it seven hours.

That’s how much time I’ve spent in the last few weeks sitting at the computer, hands on the keyboard, trying to get words out of my head and into an outline, into a story. And nothing’s coming out. Nothing. Not a damned thing.

Yesterday morning was a perfect opportunity: Quiet, alone, no chores, no work, just me and the word processor. I wasn’t even playing music. Nothing. Not a damned thing. From 9:30 to 12:00 I did nothing. And that was just yesterday.

I can’t do it. All of this glorious “I’m going to write something!” and, no, apparently I am most assuredly not.

So… now what? The comic’s over. I can’t write. I’m not actually a good photographer. I’m terrible at working with tools so building & crafting are right out.

I guess I’m just a worker drone and passive consumer from here on out.

Whee.

One of the joys associated with getting over a head cold is that of sucking down cough drops like they’re Easter candy. (Wait, is Easter coming up? Maybe I need some chocolate eggs…) I bought a bag of Halls cough drops months ago during my last cold outbreak but only this week did I notice something a bit… silly… about the wrappings.

“A PEP TALK IN EVERY DROP ™”

Yes, like so many companies afflicted with a bad case of “savvy marketing,” Halls have stuck little motivational blurbs onto the wrapper of each individual lozenge. Isn’t that adorable?

“You can do it and you know it.”

You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends behind. Especially the friends who are hacking up a lung because they’re suffering a cold.

“Be unstoppable.”

I’m more likely to be Ron Stoppable at this point.

“You’ve survived tougher.”

Tougher what? Could you vague that up a bit for me?

“Push on!”

Shove off.

“Inspire envy.”

While I’m sniffling, sneezing, and horking every few minutes, I might turn people a bit green but it won’t be with envy, I assure you.

“Don’t give up on yourself.”

Don’t quit your day job.

“Put your game face on.”

I guess that depends on the game. Settlers of Catan? Borderlands 2? Game of Thrones?

“Don’t waste a precious minute.”

Fear not: I only waste the worthless minutes, the ones nobody really liked or wanted anyway. Screw them.

And my personal favorite:

“Turn ‘can do’ into ‘can did’!”

NO. THAT ISN’T EVEN GOOD GRAMMAR. SHUT UP. STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT *froth* *rage* *cough* *wheeze* *reaches for a cough drop*

… well played, Halls. Well played.

 

(Addendum: Another cough drop, another head-to-desk moment.)

“Don’t try harder. Do harder!”

That’s what she said.