So that whole I'm going to write every day even if it's bad thing didn't work out. I'm not sure why I stopped. I know I was tired of having nothing to say. I don't remember the first day that I skipped it. And then another day and another day and another day...
My - I'm better - post was premature. I am better. But there are days when things are just bad. And I don't have energy for much of anything. But there are also days when I can get a few things done.
Mandy helped me rearrange the furniture in my library. I wanted to be able to get to the books. Moving furniture has always been a happy thing for me. I just can't do it myself. There was a lot of dust. We still need to move the books themselves. I've been able to do a little bit of that. I spend so much time just looking at the shelves and feeling happy.
I recently finished reading Elena Ferrante's - In the Margins. She writes about those red lines on the paper we wrote on in school. I got terrible grades on my handwriting, which will surprise no one who has seen my handwriting. It gets worse every day.
She says she has two kinds of writing. Compliant and impetuous. Compliant being more like the writing required by the academy. Impetuous being writing that comes from a place she cannot summon or control. She aspires to writing that is strong and her own. I aspire to writing that ... happens.
Heh.