It's the lack of confidence that leads to not being as prolific as I would like, and that's just where I'm at. It's a catch 22 because when I get more work it enables me to be more prolific, and as a result I feel better about myself.
When the opposite goes down I feel worthless. I feel like there's no reason for me to even exist and no words of encouragement can fix the feeling. Yeah I'm dramatic and sometimes throw my own pity parties but I don't care.
Not every weekend is a party. Not every outfit is a winner. It's hard for me to write and pretend otherwise.
I know this sounds gloomy. I'm harshing your mellow and being Captain Bringdown.
Let's all complain and close the curtains so no light comes in. Lock the door and sleep all day and don't wear makeup and don't answer the phone and delete yourself from Facebook and when someone tries to cheer you up don't even let them.
Do it now.
Do you feel better?
I do.
Sometimes I feel bad. I'm not gonna let myself feel bad about feeling bad.
(Another thing that helps is listening to this Buzz Bissinger podcast, thanks to my boyfriend for showing this to me).
In happy news, I went to Palm Springs last weekend where it was 107 degrees (I liked it). It was hard to sit in the sun but I managed. I needed to show off my Budweiser bikini. Reason #1 for happiness.
Reason #2: Local cover bands. They played "Boys Don't Cry" and "American Girl." I danced around in circles and pretended I was in an episode of Rosanne.
Reason #3: Gay men. They all live in Palm Springs and they are mostly bears. I went into a sex store called "GEAR" and found this not so subtle lubricant. We also went to a gay club where I drank many a Red Bull to the sounds of Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Rihanna, and Madons. T'was totally ruling.
All these photos were taken with my Blackberry because I forgot my camera.
