Is there anything more depressing than an almost immediate failure?
Okay, so I didn’t technically have one of those. But I feel like I sorta-kinda did.
What I Did Get Done
1. I spent 45 min or so writing the first draft of the shop’s About page. It’s good enough to go.
2. I spent another 45 min in vital minutia, such as getting printouts of bank statements for my business credit card application from my regular bank, driving over to the new one, yadda yadda.
So why do I feel so shitty?
I deeply want to launch into an explanation of the sucktacularness of the last week, including (as it did) a quite strong reaction to the drugs the dentist injected into my gum, no internet all week, and an ECG, and…
Wait. What I actually want to launch into is a justification.
A justification for what? I spent nearly 2 hours; I have a functional About page text plus a few more bureaucratic hurdles have been jumped.
What the fuck am I feeling defensive about?
So I only got the About page written today, the last day of my week. So what?
So life intervened and I didn’t get to do any of the fun creative things I’ve been anticipating. So what?
So I don’t have a viable prototype to show yet. So what?
So most of the work is not very interesting to describe to you. So what?
Ah. All hail the project limitations.
Many weeks I will not have anything fascinating to show.
Many weeks I will be able to describe my activities in one quite short paragraph.
Many weeks it will feel like my progress is so slow as to be drifting gently backwards with the tectonic plates.
Right. This is how it is going to be, is meant to be, is lucky to be.
I can’t sprint past all my fears and insights and baggage. I have to saunter by, head up, as they hiss obscenities from behind a chain-link fence.
So I’d like to introduce you to My Paralysing Fear of Discipline.
(We’ll call her Paradis for short.)
She has doomed many a hopeful project of mine in years past. Paradis wields a cudgel of NOPE and brings it out when it comes time to build new habits or process “because I don’t want to be, like, boring“.
She is desperate for novelty, charm, and anything that makes a good story. She detests routine, exercise, and discipline because she thinks they are going to get us judged as a dull grey monobody; then we will have no friends and we will instantly die alone in a gutter holding a bottle of methylated spirits and no one will even attend the funeral oh woe.
Paradis means well, but she regularly fucks me over.
She better get comfy. We’re in for a long ride.
Bags sold: 0
Time spent: 3.5 hours
Demons introduced: 1
Demons yet to meet: God, so many
Want to play meet-and-greet with my issues? Come on over to the comments!