too deranged

so anyway, too deranged to write anything sensible, too sensible to write anything deranged. LOL.

i actually feel like that sentence. you have no idea. i feel like all day long my teeth are set on edge, like cars are crashing in my head.

i need a break. but i do realise, you make your own breaks.

here's a thing though. my main gig, as was, pretty much vanished. in fact, the chick who was giving me work, g, has gone away for two months and didn't even tell me. so i guess they sacked me, more or less. but she didn't even tell me. well, i wasn't doing a great job, but most editors actually don't.

here it is though, she gives me this job this guy has been doing, and she emails me all the correspondence. and this guy has made lists and checklists, and she is writing to this other chick, perversely also g, and saying hey, this guy is thorough. in an approving way, like he is  a supereditor.

but i spend hours fixing his fuckups, and correcting what he did wrong or didn't do at all. see, she has buttons and he, inadvertently i'm sure, presses them and i don't. i'm better value, but i forget to do something and she's ticked off and it's a matter of admin, and i'm thinking, actually, i shouldn't be carrying the can for it because it was actually someone else's thing to take care of. but that's what being an editor is.

(it strikes me that i should tell don, don, you're a decent guy, a thinking guy and i like you, but man, don't blog about blogging. if you want to tell us something, tell us and don't futz about. get a private blog and write it there. you are killing yourself with this chit man. get yourself some honesty. yeah, no one cares. well, that's okay, you can care enough all on your own.)

so that gig falls through and now my other decent gig, ten hours a week, writes me and "it's with a touch of sadness" the beancounters have decided you need to be sacked.

you know, this is truly wtf. I have done this job for two and a half years. i'm experienced in the field, all the people i work with like me and respect my work, but they sack me anyway, because it will save a few quid. every other solution will cost more in the long term, but this year they save a couple of grand.

well, whatever. i took a solid job because i was sick of worrying every couple of months, so i know i'll be okay, but it means i probably have to put off going home and that sucks.

and every time i start feeling good about things, they go wrong. i feel good about poker? time to lose a ton of money. i feel good about my marriage? mrs zen will soon put a stop to that by reminding me just what a fucking bitch she can be when she wants to. i actually only want the easy life, and it amazes me that she thinks i welcome complication.

you know, i have never been patient, and i always want it now. if i were more success oriented, this would actually be a good thing.

but i am distracted. i cannot concentrate and it's a real worry. i have just about given up writing because the whole time i'm like i want it to have been written and can't be bothered doing it. i already know how it is. i have whole novels in my head that i simply cannot be bothered writing. no one else wants to read them anyway.

i was very hurt that t said my book was boring. i could have lived with "poor" but boring hurt. i take small things to heart, while ignoring big things, and i know that's a flaw, but it's how i am. i would never tell me that i'm boring. i would have known i am sensitive about that. because i am boring, but only to you. to me, i am vaguely interesting. i almost wrote "endlessly fascinating" but nothing has fascinated me for several years now.

except for s. see, here's the thing with that. it's a small thing that some entirely fucking deranged person decides they don't like you. who knows what fucked-up calculus people like that use? you'd shrug it off mostly. oh well, the looney is drooling in some other quarter. but i actually didn't have a reason to like her, and that is intriguing in itself. i know why i like a, for instance, and l, i know why i like him for sure, and i like don because he's basically drowning and t because he's serious and m because he is just exactly what i like without being able to articulate what i like, and brc because they are my kids, and my mum because she is a fine human being and my dad because he isn't.

and myself because i understand what is likeable about me.

but s, no idea. i feel like i was being told a story and never reached the end. i still kind of hope she will write to me, ask for forgiveness (because she is very wrong about who needs to forgive who, after all, i never lied to her) and allow me to read the end of that book.

i realise p will be upset that i didn't put her in the list of people i like, but that was an abridged list of people i like and know the reasons -- there are more actually, because obviously i like sour grapes, uv, theminotaur etc etc, because they are people i have come to know, who are fundamentally decent and not entirely tiresome -- but p is special. i like her and have no idea why, and have felt like that since she first wrote to me, many years ago now. she is deeply mine in a way practically no one else is, part of me even, like my sister, my lover, my limb. but i have no idea why.

and you know, i have written this whole post so that i can smuggle in this message, which is that if i care about you, that won't change unless you do something seismic. i make a decision about you and it's made. everyone is like, well, fuck you. but if i connect with you, it's forever.

the other day, i was thinking, i have never dumped anyone. not ever. i've never ditched a gf, or even a friend. they've wandered away, or i've drifted, but i never canned anyone. and i will never can you, if you are my friend, i am incapable. i will still be here when all have left you, and you feel you are alone. you won't be, because i do not know how to stop loving you. i am too deranged to see how. see, you think it is a disability but i think it is my saving grace.

posted by Dr Zen @ 12:48 am