Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Writery update

I gave up last night. I went to bed at 9pm frustrated about my edit. There are parts that are just not working. I'm supposed to be at the rereading and turning it back in stage. But. Yeah.

If anything I've learned to trust my gut over the years and my gut says it needs more work.

So I hit the pillow a few times, tried to reason out what I could cut to make the pacing work, and eventually went to sleep.

When I woke up, I was at the point of accepting that I need to rewrite at least one chapter (maybe more, we'll see). It's a difficult place for me to get to sometimes. One pep talk later I'm ready to get to work.

Well, maybe. I'll need more coffee first, I think.

I probably shouldn't be trying to get back on the vegan-wagon while editing (I fell off because had a little holiday love affair with pie). I'm having a sugar craving like you wouldn't believe. I could get in my car and drive to Whole Foods and get some vegan cookies, but really, I don't need the sugar.

My sisters are on a get-skinny-for-Paris kick. One one hand I don't feel the need to join, but I don't want to look like the shlump in the pictures either. It doesn't help that I associate edits with stuffing my face full of snacks.


Wow, this is kind of a non-update. Ha.

Meh. I have such a difficult time thinking about anything else when I'm editing. So. I get what I get.

Until later, peeps!



Tuesday, February 3, 2015

I May Never Wear Contacts Again

I’m plodding along on my edit. I want to demonstrate how that’s going (the fact that my life is impeding me at every turn), but couldn’t figure out the vehicle to frame what that looks like. And then yesterday happened.

I knew yesterday would be a long day before it started. I had a lot on the agenda. I was determined to get it all done and work on my edit. Because I’m a conqueror with thousands of Life Points. RAWR!

*Cough*

The night before I didn’t sleep well. Bekah’s science project is not working. Why can I never have a single science project work? I tossed and turned all night trying to figure out how I can redo the experiment and get ANY results (not just results I wanted — I’ll take anything).

I woke up tired. Then I ran all over creation to get my passport renewed and did a few other things that were time sensitive. It was one of those days where people were not in sync with me. Like going to the post office and waiting an hour in line, then when I got to the front, four out of the five employees went on break.

Finally I made it to Starbucks. At this point I had about an hour left before I had to pick up my daughter from school. I was thrilled when I walked in and there were only a few people inside and it was quiet. That never happens. EVER.

I bought my coffee and got myself comfortable. I’d completed an entire page of edits when a group of people came in, sat down next to me, and proceeded to interview for the next hour.

I mean, really? Can’t you do that at your office?

Right. No big deal. I could salvage the day. I went to pick up my daughter. Then we came home and started a fresh science experiment.

Somewhere in the middle of that I pulled a ligature (or maybe a muscle?) in my hip. I have zero clue how I did that. All I know is that I was in a lot of pain and couldn’t walk.

Bright side (I thought): If I can’t walk, I’ll used this time to edit. Right? Perfect solution. I was exhausted by this point anyway. Even though it was barely 3:30pm.

I limped up to my room. Got out my laptop. Then stopped to take out my contacts so that I could be comfortable.

But.

When I went to take out my contacts there was this sort of pop-snap and then the contact was in my eyelid. It’s hard to describe the events because the whole experience had never happened to me before. All I knew was: the contact was in my eye, it hurt like hell, and I couldn’t see.

I tried EVERYTHING to get that sucker out. I went through a full bottle of contact solution. Tried several eye washes, Steven even tried to get them out. Nada.

It was nearing 8pm by this point. That horrific contact had been lodged in my eyelid for over four hours. I didn’t know if I could sleep with it in. It hurt SO BAD.

My sister asked why I hadn’t gone to the eye doctor before they’d closed. Honestly, I thought that I’d be able to get it out! What contact never comes out? 

She convinced me to go to urgent care (by telling me that I’d be permanently blind).

I sat in urgent care from 8pm till about 10:30pm when the doctor finally saw me and got around to extracting it. Let me tell you, this doctor was a hundred and fifty if he was a day. Deaf. And suffering from a bit of Alzheimers and/or dementia. It was bizarre. I’d say something and he’s repeat something totally different. Then I’d repeat the original statement and he’d say something crazy again.

I wasn’t the only one with issues either. Two other patients yelled at him (one in the middle of the triage area, and another so loud I heard the whole thing behind two closed doors). It was craaaaaazy. On one hand, it’s Vegas. On the other, DUUUUUUUUUDE.

Doctor’s licenses should be like driver’s licenses: there should be mandatory testing after a certain age to make sure the doctor is competent. You know what I mean? I don’t think many people can see reality when their mental capacity starts to break down.

I thought to myself: Do I want this guy sticking a Q-tip in my eyeball? Is it worth it? Can I wait until the morning? Because I may be blinded by this procedure and not from the contact stuck in my eye.

I let him proceed. Mostly because I was in pain. I just wanted it OUT.

He poked around. “I don’t see it.”

“I’m telling you, it’s there. I can feel it.”

“I don’t see it.”

I said, my voice bordering on very strong, “IT’S THERE.” I’d been waiting for two and a half hours by this point (over seven hours since the contact got lodged). I’d let a crazy person stick a long pointy object in my eyeball. GET. IT. OUT.

He found it. Took it out. Thought he was done.

I looked at it. The piece was tiny. “This isn’t the whole thing.”

He argued at first, then fished around again. Extracted another piece.

Me: “It’s still not all of it.”

Several pieces later…

Somehow when I was removing my contact (a soft lens, BTW) it broke into several shards. How does that happen? I’ve never, ever had that happen to me in the twenty five years I’ve been wearing contacts. It disintegrated! There’s no way I would have been able to get the pieces out on my own. 

Side note: these contacts expire mid-2016. It’s not like I used old contacts.

Freakiest thing ever.

I think he got it all out. I don’t feel pain anymore. Though my eye is sore today, and I woke up with a blinding headache.

So yeah… I managed a whole seven pages of edits yesterday. Go me! LOL.


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