On the heels of EM the Merciful

I hate the feeling that my goodwill and compassion is being taken advantage of. Without any word of a lie, as much of the time I spend looking after myself, equal to or more time is spent on looking after everyone else. I’m always the first one to say, “don’t worry about it. I’ll do it.” And so I take on everyone else’s burdens. I have a hard time delegating. Especially when I can do most of the things that need to be done faster and more efficiently than those around me can.

I’m exhausted. Both physically and mentally. My frozen shoulder won’t let me sleep during the 5 hours I night I manage to be in bed. The pain is inhuman. When I am awake I’m being pulled in a thousand directions at once: have you done this for me yet? Have you called this doctor for him? That doctor for her? Can you come with me to this or that appointment? Sorry, I’m too busy to help you. Maybe next month… You want the money I owe you? Fuck you.  This is what I listen to every day. And yeah, I allow it. But the truth is, I’m the only one who CAN do three quarters of what I do. It’s why I don’t have a job. Pfft. Like I sit around watching soaps all day.

And then everyone wonders why I go away on vacation alone.

I need a vacation. Again.

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Daily Post – Food Bites

The Daily Post asks us to write about ” Food for the Soul (and the Stomach)”.

I have a love/hate relationship with food. I love it, it hates me. Or so it seems. Conditioned from an early age that it’s of the utmost importance to have an eighteen inch waist (thanks Mom) I’ve been struggling with my waistline since I was a teenager. I would eat all the time if I could. But I can’t. My low metabolism doesn’t do me any favours either. As far as I’m concerned, food bites.

Nah, food for my soul is language. Words. They float through my mind, calorie free and I breathe them back out onto the page. Yes, okay, sometimes they resemble vomit more than the whisper of a breath, but that’s what polishing is for, right?

Tell us about your favorite meal, either to eat or to prepare. Does it just taste great, or does it have other associations? – the daily post

Though I’m also very fond of Japanese, my favourite meal is English. British English, in particular. (You may notice my spelling of the word “favourite.”) I like to prepare it in the form of fiction; the longer it takes to make, the better. For me there’s nothing better than the smorgasbord of a novel, laid out on a vast table of white and just waiting to be devoured. In one sitting, if it’s delicious enough. I strive to be a master chef, though there are a few masters to whose work I shall never live up.

Words satisfy my hunger for knowledge and for passion; they fill the tastebuds of my emotions with joy.

Oh, and wine is good too.

Well don’t I suck

I lasted four days at “3 Words A Day.” I’m giving up because all I managed to get out of it was a headache and a bunch of boring posts. So boring that not even the host of the prompt could be bothered to “like” them. That’s gotta be the reason, right?

Right, well. Now I need some inspiration. Any suggestions on prompts that don’t insist that you commit? I really don’t want to suck at this prompt business.

The Things I Do For The Sake of My Characters

Under the category of: You know you’re a writer when…

I’m finding myself looking at pictures of half-naked women to figure out what turns my main character on. He’s a fictional heterosexual man. I’m a real heterosexual woman.

Now that’s dedication, is it not?