Man my motivation is completely annihilated by wine, white mostly, always dry. I hate the thought of choking down anything too syrupy without the accompaniment of something else, a competing texture as my brain doesn’t register satisfaction in one as a general statement, unless it is liquid. Though big boba spit balls in anything I am consuming and barf, I am throwing up. That is the wrong texture, tiny blobs like eyeballs, I would imagine, if you chewed into one. But anyways, yes, my drive to complete was murdered by a few bottles of white wine this weekend–the time he and I have together conscious is limited by the hours he keeps, so any time we can wind down–shit, it usually involves wine. I have made a lot of terrible decisions while drunk, but one thing I have done more than a few times is buy a website, sometimes two. I bought Don one yesterday and it is sooo soo soo good. I cannot tell you as I would have to kill you but let’s just say in my life I have owned AT LEAST 20. Who does that? A drunk person with too many ideas and not enough fucking follow-through.
The other problem is I have no laptop which makes writing as a writer pretty hard. My cartilage is clearly an issue so writing for long periods of time is challenging. This has been my biggest complaint in the copywriting class, they want you to longhand a few letters three or four times and I am just cramped and limping after one or two versions so 4 is just twice the torture. That is the main reason I have not finished a thing with regards to all this–the room I work in all day is where my computer is and I sometimes need just a change of scenery after 9 hours. I am not sure how to solve that–I have been without a laptop, hmm. How long now? AT least 8 years. WTF. There have many misses with me achieving the solution to that issue and I realize so many people I know have shit ones lying around. I have had two handed to me that promptly died–one from like 01 and the other one from 2006. They seemed indestructible from the outside but the insides boobytrapped and trapped my writing just like my MacBook did. You could mail one to me and I really just need what is the equivalent of a typewriter that saves. I gave up giving a shit about having a nice computer probably 4 years into not having one because of expense. I did have a MacBook for some times but that was given away so long ago now–given away for repair that really was never going to happen given my resources but even that in its more barebones incarnation, to be able to type stuff I could save, I know, how novel.
As it is, I am stuck in the dark room and probably will just have to get used to being in here 18 hours a day. A drag for sure, but I guess that is the sacrifice I am going to have to be willing to make to make shit happen. I am still going to whine about it one more time. BLEHHHHHHHHHH.
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