You’re probably thinking, “Jeez, Beck, that title is really rude and accusatory.” While it’s true that I am generally both of those things, the title is directed at myself, not you. Don’t project; it’s ugly.
So why am I calling myself stupid? The usual reasons. Also:
- I haven’t written in here in a long ass time, but I’m still paying for it. I also pay for a gym membership I never use. There’s one stupid point each for paying for something I don’t use, and an additional stupid point for not going to the gym.
- I have about five unfinished short stories and I still haven’t finished my novel, which I started in 2010. It is now nearly 2019. I get one stupid point per year I never finished the novel I started, plus one stupid point for every short story I’ve started and not finished. I’ll have to look at that to get an exact number.
- I just bought a sandwich from the refrigerated case of the coffee shop I’m at instead of ordering a fresh sandwich, and sure enough, it’s kind of gross. One stupid point for buying a gross sandwich when I should’ve known better.
I’m not sure how many stupid points that is because I don’t want to look at how many short stories I’ve started instead of working on my novel, but it’s definitely over 20. So… ugh.
Regardless, I’m here now, and I’m doing this. I did some freelance and I’ve decided to stop doing freelance for the day and work on MY stuff. My Beck Stuff. That is the thing I am doing today. I will try to lose stupid points. Although the lifetime of stupid points I’ve accumulated means that I’ll never be rid of them, or even close. But I can shave some off when it comes to my writing.
Of course, now I have no plan. That means I’ll finish this blog post, then whip out my trusty notebook and pen (you thought I was going to say dick, didn’t you? Joke’s on you; my dick’s always out) and make a list.
Until next time.