There is a dream inside a dream


Right now, I can’t see me carrying on with writing. I think that at best I will merely scrape the summit of mediocrity, and there’s enough shite out there without me contributing to it.

Of course, if I received agenty-type goodness in my emails I’d carry on, because I’m a sucker for external validation. (And, I’ll admit, seeing my query mentioned in ‘s lj made me go squee.) 😀 Right now, me telling myself my writing is improving isn’t enough, and when the thought of going back to open a WiP makes me want to vomit then it’s probably not what I should be doing.

Also recently things have been weird, I’m feeling over-sensitive about everything – just the other day I mentioned to the two Bs that my class was doing a tambourine dance which I was enjoying, and their reaction just felt really mocking. God, that last sentence makes me sound like a twat. I’m just feeling humiliated about everything I do, like people are laughing at me, to my face, but I’m too dumb to see it. Ugh. This post has turned into a wangst-fest. Enough all ready.

So, what have I been doing to fill my time – well. The house isn’t any cleaner, so I can stop using my writing as an excuse and just admit my laziness. 😛 I have been hooping instead – which actually means I’ve been happily making a tit of myself with a piece of black tubing. Sadly, all I can do at this point is hoop at various levels (waist, hip, neck, knees, sometimes if I’m lucky then shoulder and chest). No impressive tricks and flicks and kicks. Yet.

I’ve been trying to work out a choreography for dance. Rumour has it that I’m doing a solo in this year’s concert. Which is scary as all hell, so this is me going EEEEEEE! I’m dancing to Lark’s Tricksy which is proving…interesting. Why I went and chose that particular track, I have no idea. Now I must suffer for my choices. Also, it means I have to do costumes for FOUR dances – including an ATS skirt – the type that has like a ten yard hem. I guess I’ll be beading and decorating bedlah until the sight of a coin or sequin will send me into a crazed shaking heap on the floor.