Transmission and a Live Wire

Randomly, LinkedIn sent me an email today full of local job listings, and it actually included a job I am qualified for and might even like. I am employed at the moment, but we're trying to relocate 20-30 miles south, and that commute would not work. This company is about five miles north of the neighborhood we have our eye on, and you can take surface streets from point A to point B instead of slogging through freeway traffic. We wants it, precious.

So I applied. I had to redo my resume, but it was surprisingly fun. I tend to remember my failures more intensely than my successes, but damn it, I've done some good shit. I migrated a company's (small) website from a static HTML brochureware site to a CMS, and added a bunch of rad content. I brought a neglected AdWords campaign back from the dead and monitored ROI like a madwoman. I wrote informative, clear blog posts and product copy. Tonight, I feel like I don't suck.

I kind of hate applying for writing jobs, though, because I feel I must exercise CONSTANT. VIGILANCE. lest a typo or homophone get through. (Embarrassingly, I have been typing "then" instead of "than" lately, not because I forgot which is which, but apparently because my brain cannot think at 85 wpm, which is how fast my fingers are moving.) I also obsess over cover letters when I apply for a writing job. My cover letter is my audition. Particularly when one is applying to write sales copy. Copywriter, sell thyself. I got cute with it and listed out my "features and benefits." I basically swung my dick around for the entire thing, bragging like god's gift, and managing to do so without lying at all! Turning off the humility and turning on the grandiosity is a good exercise.

Anyway, if they don't call me, no big. I have a job. I can look for a more different job at a leisurely pace. This is the first time that's happened in ... just about exactly five years, I think. It feels good.

Well, this week sucked. I had one of those days when I paused, looked around, and said "Oh, right, I'm actually really goddamn depressed." Cried for several hours straight. Had insomnia, and ended up calling in sick to work for two days even though I do not have the sick time so I'm just out that pay. And now feel anxious, guilty, and self-loathing. It's the ciiiiiirrrrcle of faaaaaaiiiil.

I talked to my mother, which was helpful. It made me realize I am actually holding onto a lot of anger at her. My family left my city at Christmas and moved to another state. I didn't feel angry about it at first, but as the months go by and I realize I'm going to see them two or three times a year instead of twice a month, the resentment is growing. I do not plan on discussing this with her. She felt crazy guilty about the move and I don't need to stir that up again. I can work on letting it go on my own.

On the plus side, my mom's wisdom vis a vis self-destructive misery proved helpful once again. I don't know if this is a 12-step concept or something from her old therapist or what, but she talks about "energy" -- not in a woo way, but suggesting that some people and activities drain our energy and others bolster it. "Energy-in" vs. "energy-out." She encouraged me to reflect on what energy-in things I'm doing, and if there aren't many, I should make a list and resolve to do those things more often. My list so far:

Writing fiction
Writing non-fiction, esp. when it involves explaining something
Learning new things
Snuggling with animals
Snuggling with boyfriends
Going to the beach or the woods
Spending time with friends
Dancing
Cooking & baking

I have been doing some of these things, but I think I identified the problem: I'm doing them at work, when I'm supposed to be working. I feel so anxious and guilty about that, I don't get the energy; or if I get it, it's immediately eaten up by the bad feelings about being a slacker, a dumbass who can't focus, a perpetual failure who's bound to get fired again, etc. Maybe that realization -- that I'm actually draining myself even more when I do my energy-in things at the wrong time -- will help me resist the urge to do those things instead of working. Of course, after realizing this, I called in sick for two days and walked around with a lump in my stomach the whole time. So maybe not.

I can't decide if TV, movies, books, and video games should go on the list. Sometimes those things just feel like anesthetic. Like I'm not really enjoying myself, and I'm really just distracting myself from how unhappy I am. Listening to music is not on the list right now. I may have ruined that for myself by using music as a tool to get through my workdays; some of my favorite albums are way too associated with gross work feelings for me to listen to them at home. I'm also not sure about role-playing. I love making characters, but honestly, I sometimes feel stressed during a session because I feel like I suck at describing combat actions in an interesting way. I'm also pretty sure that my friends think my characters are one-dimensional, so that's not fun. We're closing out a long Rifts campaign today. I'm not sure if I'll join in for the next game.

So I guess I need to start seeing my annoying shrink again. I'm not looking forward to that, but it seems preferable to starting over with a new one.

In happy news, the Three-Sentence Ficathon has been amusing me. I like some of the things I wrote for it and have put them on AO3. Yay.

I'm so good at procrastinating, you guys. Today, faced with the prospect of actually getting down and dirty and writing the porn bit of my fic, I was suddenly gripped by the overwhelming need to make an LJ icon to use when I eventually post said fic. Be prepared, that's my motto! So I spent about an hour looking for screencaps. No dice. Then I spent a half-hour installing a program that would allow me to make my own large batch of screencaps. Then I found out iTunes doesn't even sell the film in question, which makes NO goddamn sense, and iheartcinema is closed, so forget pirating. Then I scoured dA for something suitable. Then I appropriated an appealing image and fucked around in GIMP for a while. VICTORY!

Did I mention that I also spent a couple hours fretting over my DW journal layout? Like, to the point that I registered an account at Colour Lovers so I could play with palettes and patterns more easily?

WRITING GETS ME SCURRED.

Also, I think I'm writing intellislash. Leaves aren't quite falling and swirling, but it's a close thing.

Research is a particularly devious procrastination technique. I could stare at the blank screen and chew my lip and fret over word choice and put down a sentence that I will immediately delete and hate every phrase that comes off my fingertips ... or I could read awesomely salacious true tales of fallen women killing themselves in seedy flophouses while down-and-out addicts prepare to toss the bodies into the gutter! Which one of these things makes me feel worse about myself, and which one of them makes me feel better? TAKE ME AWAY, WIKIPEDIA.