2002-05-29 - 11:27 p.m.
Old themes, repackaged ...

I've had the song "Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers stuck in my head all day, for no reason I can think of. I wish I could remember the movie it was in. It's definite sad-longing mood music, perfect for the bit of fic I'm currently writing.

I'm up to 8,000 words now. My brother's starting to get annoyed. I've been baking fish-sticks for sandwiches in an effort to get around cooking ... and all I can say is, thank God TV-season is over. Near-complete silence in the apartment save for what's coming through my head-phones. Ahhhh. Might be a non-social hobby, but hey, it's not my fault no one else I'm close to save Hildegaard follows this show, and she has no Internet access. I would absolutely love to discuss plot points and the fine art of writing.

Discovered something else about myself the other day, a darned annoying thing at that. (By the way, a sentence like that should, by now, be a warning to eye-rolling readers that slightly melodramatic self-discovery thinking-at-the-keyboardness lies ahead).

I had my head all wrapped up in some project at work, and I was wearing a crimson shirt that I *know* brings out all the right highlights and contrasts with hair and skin, and I *forgot* to turn on my "mostly harmless" emotional projector.

(Forgot to? When the hell did it become an automatic reaction that I have to *forget*? It used to be a refuge. Retreat when feeling unsure of oneself, that's what it used to be for ... people smile at you, and like you, when you're being all "mostly harmless" and "can I help you?" Am I really that unsure of myself all the time now? Scratch that, yes, of course I am. Damnit. Sometimes I forget what my life is like these days).

Didn't last. I got some interesting reactions from people though, especially the temp security guard; noticeable double-take. First time I've felt seriously appreciated as a woman in, hell, forever. (I really, really need to get a job someplace where the guys make up more than 5% of the workforce).

My brain starting ticking over, after awhile. Getting appreciated for something, work, appearance, doesn't matter what, just the appreciation, really perks me up. Always has, like an infusion of caffeine without the health-harming parts. Even better, intelligent give-and-take with a person I respect, who respects me. I'm not sure I've ever really had that. Bits and pieces, sure, in this area or that, but never full-on. And I'm back to the square-peg, round-hole routine.

What occured to me today about all of this, however, is that I've gotten addicted to the needy-girl routine, too. I was mentioning yesterday all that stuff about moving the deck? That felt *good*. Weakest of the bunch, maybe, but I was asked to help, six guys out there and me and I felt like I was one of the team. There was a good kind of sore in my muscles afterwards, and it's good for amusing anecdotes later on, and so on and so forth. But afterwards? What did I do? I went showing off my bruises and scratches and mudstains to Mom, feeling all look at me, look at me, look at me, look at me.

Look at me, damn it. Look at me, damn you!

Not said to Mom, of course; that last is more me vs. the world. I do that about everything these days, at the drop of a hat. Everything except my writing; the one thing I've ever been certain that I do well. The one thing I was good at early enough in my life that nobody started belittling it until the habit was already well-established and healthy.

Doesn't fit much with my wanting to be all low-key and self-actualized in the future, does it? But going with the low-key power-ness implicitly recognizes that other people of your "type", whatever the hell that is, will notice. Right now I'm lost enough that any notice, almost, will do.

Silly me, I just had to pick up that book last week, Self Matters. One disillusioned dissatisfied young white chick? Check. Intelligent self help material? Check. Using my brain to crunch through the chapters instead of skimming them as per usual? Check. It's producing interesting food for thought, if nothing else.

Can't wait to see what comes out the other side, though. And that, my friends, is progress.