Taking joy in other people’s pain

I love a good famous-person meltdown. I watched Eliot Spitzer go down with glee. Mitt Romney was a series of “I can’t believe he just did that” moments. There’s something about a person with power who is being a major ass and is then hauled over the coals for it that I can’t get enough of. So, I took some unholy glee in this editorial takedown of Paula Deen. I also love a well-articulated dismantling of things I look at in incoherent rage.

Now you get to take joy in my pain. I’m in writing limbo. I have completed draft 2, and am waiting for feedback on it from a friend of mine. Today I have a lull in my work life, and so I thought I’d go to the library or some other place of minimal distraction and work on the dreaded manuscript. But where do I begin?

I have some material limitations. I can’t print out the whole thing, because that would require buying new toner, and I’m way too lazy to do that. I can’t bring my computer to the library because then I’ll spend all day on the goddamned Internet, rather than on my work. I know myself that much. So I guess it’s just choosing a chapter and editing it. Taking some notes and writing them out longhand. Gasp.

How do you re-engage yourself with your work? It’s a struggle every fucking time.

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8 responses to “Taking joy in other people’s pain

  1. I do what I do to procrastinate, except in reverse.

    No, seriously, I usually grit me teeth and start scribbling. To misquote a wise person who once quoted a wise person,, at least I can clear out some garbage that way.

  2. Bite the bullet – buy the toner. You’ll need it eventually anyway (right?) and print out those pages!!!! How many times have I avoided doing this and wished I’d just fucking done it already.

    Or …. take out that toner cartridge and shake it up and print anyway. I also had a dead toner cartridge this last round, but printed anyway. My last 100 pages are all about 1/2 shady-blank right down the center. You’d be surprised what you can do with that.

  3. You guys are all right. I took a folder of crap that I needed to figure out to the library, worked on it steadily, and somehow convinced myself I could come home and type up some writing, by which I mean turn these notes into paragraphs. We’ll see.

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