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Spiderweb of Flourish
Aug. 28th, 2018 10:29 pmI dropped the Sparrowhawk off at the eye doctor this morning before going to see my therapist. He thought he could drive himself, but I didn't want him to until he saw the doc. Good news--his eye is healing well, and they were able to take off the "bandage contact lens" and move on to the next stage of healing. So now he really can drive again.
We had more thunder and rain last night. This morning it wasn't too bad out--still very humid and muggy, but there was a breeze. I thought I could get a walk in before it got too hot, but it was pretty hot by the time I got back. When I sat down in Madame's office, she commented, "That is a 'my joints hurt' kind of sitting down." And she was right. My knees are so stiff. I can feel that they are puffed up inside. The Sparrowhawk made some oatmeal, and I ate some with hemp oil, blueberries and walnuts. I've been not taking my supplements, because I'm in an "oh what's the use" kind of mood, but I'm going to start doing it again and see if it helps.
We talked about several things in therapy, among them feeling stuck and having to do things you don't want to do. I came home all determined to get to work on some of the administrative tasks, like sending queries to more agents. Then I went down the rabbit hole of looking at agents online, and became completely demoralized. I don't have the ability to sell myself, and I never have had. I'm very much a "This is what I've got. Take it or leave it" kind of person. However, in this world, you have to present yourself as a salable item before you can even convince people to take a look at what you've got. I know that. But I don't like it. I'm with Whitman in "Starting from Paumanok":
"O a word to clear one's path ahead endlessly!
O something ecstatic and undemonstrable! O music wild!"
I am wild thing out of the wild woods. But I still have to look for an agent. I tried to cheer myself up by listening to the CD my brother gave me, of Martha Redbone and the Roots Project singing Garden of Love: Songs of William Blake.
We had more thunder and rain last night. This morning it wasn't too bad out--still very humid and muggy, but there was a breeze. I thought I could get a walk in before it got too hot, but it was pretty hot by the time I got back. When I sat down in Madame's office, she commented, "That is a 'my joints hurt' kind of sitting down." And she was right. My knees are so stiff. I can feel that they are puffed up inside. The Sparrowhawk made some oatmeal, and I ate some with hemp oil, blueberries and walnuts. I've been not taking my supplements, because I'm in an "oh what's the use" kind of mood, but I'm going to start doing it again and see if it helps.
We talked about several things in therapy, among them feeling stuck and having to do things you don't want to do. I came home all determined to get to work on some of the administrative tasks, like sending queries to more agents. Then I went down the rabbit hole of looking at agents online, and became completely demoralized. I don't have the ability to sell myself, and I never have had. I'm very much a "This is what I've got. Take it or leave it" kind of person. However, in this world, you have to present yourself as a salable item before you can even convince people to take a look at what you've got. I know that. But I don't like it. I'm with Whitman in "Starting from Paumanok":
"O a word to clear one's path ahead endlessly!
O something ecstatic and undemonstrable! O music wild!"
I am wild thing out of the wild woods. But I still have to look for an agent. I tried to cheer myself up by listening to the CD my brother gave me, of Martha Redbone and the Roots Project singing Garden of Love: Songs of William Blake.
