Last week's disappointment at having written only one-and-a-bit chapters has been beautifully overshadowed by my having written less than one chapter this week. I basically took the 'bit' from last week and finished it off to make Chapter 28. Should I wallow in a pit of self-loathing at this pathetic lack of progress or should I continue to go with my mantra of 'well at least it's better than nothing'.
Despite what many people (or perhaps just my father) seem to think, I do have a tendency towards optimism so I'm going to go with the latter option. It is better than nothing. It's a lot worse than what I would have hoped to do (say, three chapters) but it's still something. And when I completed said chapter this afternoon I was pleased with how it went and had that little post-writing glow which I've been experiencing all too infrequently of late. But it was there. Yay for the glow!
I would like to be writing more - and will once more optimistically aim to do better this week - but given my state of mind at the moment I'm pretty lucky to be producing anything.
And why have I been the Queen of Grumpiland this week? Job-hunting, that's why. I knew the job market was bad but seriously? All the jobs out there seem to fall into one of three categories:
1) Jobs I am not and will never be suitable for (e.g. truck driver, doctor, accountant)
2) Jobs I may well be qualified for in ten years time (e.g. archive assistant, museum worker, historical researcher, librarian)
3) Jobs I could perhaps be qualified for now but will most likely bore the living crap out of me (admin assistant, receptionist, secretary)
Why did I go to uni again? And why did I go back to uni again? Oh yeah, because I'm INSANE.
Not that I regret going to uni, or going back. Because I embrace my insanity with open arms, ladies and gentleman. It would appear that I enjoy nothing so much as studying. If only it were a job. I have plenty of experience (having done little else for my entire life), I like doing it and I'm not too bad at it (although some recent MA marks have made me doubt this last part). So, does anyone know of a way to get paid for going to uni for the rest of my life? Anyone? No?
If only writing was an actual proper job - you know, one with which I could produce an income in a reliable, consistent way. Won't stop me doing it, mind. Because this is me, embracing the insanity. Come here insanity, I want to give you a hug.