`So, I’ve been pushing myself to do a bit more creative work and at first, I didn’t really notice any difference. I still had the same slog through the days, and yet yesterday I realized that I was doing pretty good.
I’ve gotten quite a number of comics sketched and planned out. I have a long list of comic ideas to go through and I’m planning on working on creating the final piece of the comics. I don’t know if I’ll scan them or photograph them, but I figure I can do both and see what happens.
I’ve been remembering to work on the blog, I’ve been remembering to work on story ideas. I’ve got one story that I’m adding on to and I’m at that point where I don’t know if I should continue the way that I am or hack-n-slash it and make it just a hair more terrifying. I may just keep trundling along with what I’ve got and tack on an idea to it to make it just fairly creepy, but more in the vein of …not quite post-modernist scary story.
I went down into the basement to grab the rest of the notebooks that have story and comic ideas and was pleasantly surprised to find out that I only had a handful of notebooks that had things in them. The rest are actually up here by the desk. I’ve gone through the ones upstairs for comic ideas and I know there’s a few that I went through that have story ideas. I’ll go through them and type the story ideas up so then I can print out the pages and have them so I can fuck them all up, write stuff, and be happy with what I’m doing.
So, right now, I’m going through one of my old notebooks and cracking up over some of the notes I’ve left for myself.
In between the grocery lists, numbers for when we were measuring things, and notations for knitting ideas/projects, I’m finding weird little tidbits and little chunks of ideas. It’s been pretty fun and I feel really great about finding them.
One of my notes just simply states:
Kitchen witch. Add cats.
And I’m not wondering what I’ll do with that, but cackling with glee at the oddity of it.
I’m feeling pretty good.
Right now, I don’t absolutely hate my job and while I still firmly believe that I am surrounded by a bunch of fucking idiots, all I have to do is remind myself that this shit will be great for the comic and jot down notes in my little memo book that I always keep with me.
I feel ready to do things. Getting shit done, getting housework done. I’m ready for the remaining snow to melt so we can plot out where we’re going to put the raised beds. I do need to sweep up the remaining bits of destroyed dog toy, clean up my mess of strawberry bits and empty drink bottles (why is the Sunny D strawberry tasting decent? what happened to my taste buds?), open up more windows, and enjoy the day.
I’m ready to get shit done.