I had to fix a problem with the "Work To Do" which was plaguing the system (it was the new blogs system's fault).

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

If we fight for you

You don't mind if we fight for you, do you?

I went to bed at 5 am to the words of two people I admire very much, and slept deeply until my father called, four hours later. At this rate, my mother will soon be short one husband. I cleaned up my inbox, stopped by then, checked on the chatroom and the various boards. I don't have time to blog-hop anymore.

I really needed to unwind. My back is so cramped from hours spent on the computer, my muscles have begun to seize. I went over to Neil's for (decaffeinated) coffee, and he insisted that I take a nap, but I couldn't seem to turn off. Back massage (Neil is very well trained), warm drink, hot bath, nothing would do it. In the end, I lied down on the couch in front of the Hallmark channel, and was out like a light in under a minute. I should have thought of that straight away. I got three full hours, and I feel ready to tackle tonight's strategy session.

I told R that I missed writing; I just want to go back to writing. And I told Max that writing was like sinking to the bottom of a lake, and discovering that you can breathe. I haven't been breathing too well all week. John is patient, lingering on the side-lines, supportive. I haven't lost the feel of him, despite the tiredness, the stress and the distraction. I worried about that. Still, at times I just want to say 'The Hell with all this, I'm just a writer,' grab John, and take the level risers to the very bottom of Tesaris to curl up in the dark. Wait out the storm. Be selfish.

Then I receive thanks, and I don't deserve them. It's not about thanks. I was given John, and this universe; I give this little bit in return.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

My sleep has been dreamless

My sleep has been dreamless. I go to bed as the sun rises, tumbling past the event horizon of a black hole -- as soon as I close my eyes, reality collapses, all light cones tip inward, and there is nothing. My worldline ends. An impossible escape comes with high noon.

Today, I woke to John smiling in my face. I smiled back.

In the week before the dren hit the atmospheric scrubbers, John was on strike, sleeping all the time, like a dark cloud hanging over me. I missed him, even in his presence. He's back, though. A little older, a little wiser. Streaks of gray in his hair. Not everything has gone according to plan, but he has been loved, and he remembers. He was watching his daughter's prowler light up the atmosphere of a simple planet. Then someone came, and the last burden was lifted. He can go home--it is safe now--but he has decided to stay. He is happy here.

I'll write John any way he wants to be written. Smiling, or dead, or with a dead smile.

It's easy to converge with John, sometimes. We have things in common. Obsessive tendencies. Dreamers, stranded in a strange place, nowhere is truly home anymore.

Other traits, though, I don't share at all. I don't draw people to me the way John does; I don't make friends quickly, and I'm not as attentive to the ones I have as John would be. I have his empathy, but not always his compassion. I don't have his hope, or more accurately, I don't want to have it. If you understand that S4 John has been converging with me, rather than the other way around, you will grasp my meaning.

Nevertheless, someone's outlook on life might be rubbing off a little, because I'm beginning to see the good in the bad. I have learned to smile on the phone to reporters. I have learned more about the TV industry, about marketing and PR, about Nielsen ratings and advertising than I ever wanted to know. Learning is always a good thing.

I got the opportunity to talk to two people I respect and admire, and that probably wouldn't have happened otherwise. I stand back and watch strangers come together. I've learned a lot about fellow scapers, met a few I wouldn't have met if for not for this campaign, and grown closer to others.

I found out that I get along well with Max. We didn't have much opportunity to chat before, and we are also, in some ways, very much alike. We perceive reality sideways. (Hopefully, she will not be insulted by that statement.) It could have gone either way.

There are friends to be found here.

I'm nowhere near happy with the situation. I wouldn't go as far as to say that I am enjoying myself. I still wish this could have been avoided, for the sake of a great many people. I can't keep up with my mail, and that's annoying. My boss is going to mount my head as a mantel piece when he gets back from San Francisco. But things being what they are, we are doing well.

That's hope, right?