Social Capital

I am misanthropic as fuck. After Christmas, where I spent a long amount of time with a lot of people I loved, I needed distance. I came home and had good friends visiting, whom I could only bear to hang out with a few minutes at a time because I was exhausted by people. Then I have a class where I’m managing written comments by 19 individuals every single day. And that was before my sister and niece came to stay.

Yesterday, when Cougar called, I couldn’t even dish about my sister and niece like I normally would. I lacked the ability to describe my life. I guess, then, it isn’t surprising that I am not writing. I am not revising. I am not even opening my manuscript, reading it, gnashing my teeth, and closing it again in a fit of rage.

It’s gone. I have nothing. I’ve been reading a little, and my class ends on Friday. Maybe then I will have something to say? What do you do to get that shit back?

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9 responses to “Social Capital

  1. I seem to feed off of others, something like a vampire. Now that you’re in unworking mode, I find myself getting busy with my stories again.

    I guess I should say thanx!

  2. Stop your whingeing, Indy! Did you have 22 people (counting me and my beloved) staying at your house like I did? You did NOT. You had two (OK. Four – counting you and your beloved)!

    No, my house is not a castle (yours is).
    Yes I have tents.
    OK, it’s summer here.
    No, that’s not different.
    OK. Yes, it is
    It’s still 22 people. Do you hear me complaining?

    What would I do if I had to get that shit back?

    What do you think? Edit my far-flung sister’s one-page proposal! She wasn’t one of those who wore me thin.

    Hurry up Indy!

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