The second day in June. It dawned on me when I realized that I hadn’t written yet, that maybe #everydamndayinjune was just write anything. I made lists today. That was writing. Maybe it didn’t mean blog every day or even think about working on the book? Then I realized I was making excuses.
It isn’t that I don’t want to write. I love the challenge memes that make me purposefully write something. Today though, I am exhausted and cranky. More than cranky. I am fucking pissed. I have been working on a patio project for over a month now. Every turn has been a problem. I keep trying to fix the problems and they lead to more problems. I thought I had it under control and was so excited today to get started and actually finish this damn thing. Nope!
More issues and I’m feeling like nothing I will do toward this fucking thing will work. I just want it done. I have another option and a friend offered to help. It means more money and more time. I just want it done. So I’m feeling sorry for myself.
I have shoveled out 80 square feet of dirt, filled the pit with rocks, had to put the dirt back in, still not level. Buy more rocks. Still not level. Buy more rocks. Still not level. Today it actually looked level. The level said it was level. Nope! The deck tiles are popping apart every time I step on it. Fuck this. Fuck me.
Is June Second the end of the world?
Then I realized its just a project, not the end of the world. I needed to take a second and put things in perspective. My muscles are sore. I can barely move my arms and even typing this hurts. That was going to be my next excuse for not writing today. I hurt. Everywhere. I am sweaty and stinky and I’m too sore to take a shower or even prep for work tomorrow. I will hate myself tomorrow for being so unprepared.