Somewhere, I lost a month. June was a monster.
I got back to Portland and was nearly crippled with homesickness. It took me a few weeks to even start to feel somewhat “normal” again. I know my family doesn’t want me to be homesick, at least not to the point of near-incapacitation, but I actually would prefer that feeling never goes away. I don’t want to grow away from where I belong. I want to always feel that pull to be there.
My father’s father died almost immediately after I left home again, which made things worse. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to be there, to do whatever I could to help him through such a difficult thing, and to help my mother with whatever support she needed through it. Instead I was stuck thousands of miles away. They got through it, of course, just fine without me. My parents are brave, strong, resilient people, and inspire me every day.
Then I had finals. Papers and more papers to write. I don’t really even remember much of that week except that I didn’t sleep much. I was at the library most of every day. I was relieved when it was over.
My other grandfather had to have a surgery regarding a bout with cancer, and is recovering well. I was still a nervous wreck that day, and for a while after. I don’t even want to talk about it, really. I just wanted to acknowledge that it happened.
I started my second job at the newspaper. Long, long hours of staring at the same pages over and over again: proofreading and making changes before sending them to the production team, then proofing again for errors inserted in the production process. At the end of the day, I’ve all but memorized every story. It’s still interesting, and I’m damn good at it, so I’m happy with it.
Other than that, I’ve been writing (fiction) quite a lot. I started a side project, sort of as a joke idea, and it somehow spiraled out of control. I’m now sitting at almost 40,000 words written. To give an idea — NaNoWriMo suggests 50,000 words as a minimum completed novel. I don’t know if this will end up being something I seek any kind of publication for, or if it will simply remain something I did for my own private enjoyment. At this point, it’s not something I would share with my family or friends, but maybe eventually.
It’s late, and I’m tired… I’ve been putting in 15 hour days this week to get everything done. It’s stressful but rewarding. But for now, I’m just going to crawl into bed.
(listening to: Casey Stratton, “Still Life”)
AWW come ON SHARE!! 😉 Love you!
It is truly a blessing to find something you love to do so much that even though you burn yourself out with it you can still remember that you love it.
That is the TRUE mark of success in this world. Being true to yourself, loving what you do and doing what you love.
Keep at it; for in your love of a profession you will reach ever higher levels of satisfaction, accomplishment and true joy.
When you love it, it becomes less work and more completion of yourself.
You have let this lapse a little haven’t you?