I am so screwed... I have this huge project, and I've barely agonized a page of rough draft text from my bleeding soul. It's gotta be 6 pages long, and I could have done so much better at it. At this rate I'm going to be lucky to have 3 pages done by the time it needs to be turned in next Wedesday. As mentioned previously, I have been slightly pushed into spending this weekend and possibly many more with the dearly unfriendly side of the family. It might be healthy overall, and really they've no reason to think I might have something better to do.
I wish I could say I'm terribly surprised at this rotten situation. I really wish I hadn't been dreading this moment with more and more sharpness until at this moment when the weariness stabs between my eyes, and instead of researching companies that received royal funding to establish colonies in the New World, all I can think about is drawing cute ferrets. I really, really wish when I had started working on this last September, that I hadn't lost it for a week, another week, a week at a time, only sporadically returning to the project. Whenever I got back into the subject and ready to start putting something in writing, off I went cast adrift like the bucket rider. I wish it wasn't 3am, and that I didn't have to face that man tomorrow, that dysfunctional knot of a household. It frightens me terribly not so much what they'd do, but what I'd do, screwing up and leaving them in infamy, and having nowhere to go for comfort, only those who turn their disapproving gazes down at this resentful creature who rejected her family for no reason whatsoever.
And here I am rambling nearly another page right here, and not one bit of it my report. It's just so hard to care. So hard to sit down and do something good, make something worthy of myself. It makes me love the world more when I succeed, and my despair at the fragility of reality only increases unbearably when I love the world. Far easier to drift in a hazy discontent, not letting anything good happen so that there's nothing to lose. Who says it's better to have loved and lost after all? It's all the same in the end.
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