Why is something that seems to ache within me always want to hide from me? I want to write. I need to write, yet something stops me from writing. I'm convinced I have a monster inside whose only goal in life is to make mine miserable. That must be the only explanation, right?
Anyway, I guess I haven't posted in a while. Here's an update:
The biopsy revealed a skin condition called Erythema Nosodum. The problem is, this can be caused by any number of things. The specialist seemed a whole lot less concerned about its cause than me. Let's see...Eythema Nodosum, combined with joint pain, and anti-nucleur antibodies present in my blood. Seems a little suspicious, maybe you should be referred to a rheumatologist? oh no, that's okay, it doesn't seem like you're dying from anything at this moment, so...let's just wait and see. Ya.
So...I have time alone and I'm drinking a great beer. I was feeling pretty good about myself and so naturally I decided to bring myself down by trying to call the ex. No answer. Again. That's okay. I'm sure there's still something completely inappropriate that I can do.
I haven't made any progress in my novel. I think about it non-stop. I write notes whenever something comes to mind, but I have yet to actually sit down and write. Inspiration is elusive. Or maybe it's because I haven't really lived my life. It's difficult to find insiration when you spend all of your free time by yourself, wishing you could find inspiration to write. That's okay. Tonight, I will try to invent inspiration. Tonight, I will write. (Though if tonight's post is any indication it won't be any good!)