Tomorrow will be my ninth day of work in a row. Five of the past eight have included a few hours of overtime. I’m tired. I’m so tired I haven’t read Emma, nor have I watched a K-drama, nor have I done anything but come home, eat, and sleep. Well, I have managed to watch a handful of soccer games, but that’s because the World Cup only comes around every four years, and I really can’t miss out on that. How do you like my selfie? I took it this morning before work to prove to my friend that I have stressed eyes despite trying to cover up the dark circles with makeup. You know what I don’t like? The selfie obsession. So if you could just ignore the fact that I took one today to prove a point, I’d appreciate it.
My job is mentally taxing, but since I signed about a million confidentiality waivers (seriously, there were at least three), I can’t tell you what I do. But let me just say, the fact that I even manage to think about anything else is a miracle. I’m surprised I have enough unused brain cells left to write this post. My job hurts my head, BUT I did manage to write for the first time in six weeks, or more.
The other day I was sitting at the computer, waiting to be given my new assignment, when it struck me that perhaps I’d do better if I could cleanse my brain every fifteen minutes or so by doing something unrelated. So of course, that means WRITING! I took out a scrap piece of paper that was tucked away in my jacket pocket. It was a hotel confirmation email I believe. I folded it into quarters and picked up my pen. What do I write about? I’ve been dry for over a month. This is stupid. But before I could place the cap back on the pen, I saw wooden shoes. They clicked on the ground and tumbled across a cobblestone alley. And they held a man hostage.
So for two days, I studiously took out my paper and set it on my desk, writing a sentence or two every ten to fifteen minutes. By the end of the second day, I had 500 words, a character with fire eyes, and a girl named after the Korean word for moon. And I’m not done yet. Maybe those six weeks of self-doubt are over. Maybe I can write and finish something for the first time since April. Maybe…just maybe…