The students are still striking, I guess I should be some how grateful to them, the strike has given more time to write time which I need. I have neglected my writing for the last few months writing only a paragraph or page a week, shameful I know. Anyhoo, with the freeish time provided my the strike I decided to get some serious writing done. However instead of carrying on with the story I was already working on, I began a new story using my recent obsessions as inspiration, when I thought it I felt really silly for not seeing the potential my own neurotic nature provided in terms of characterization and a storyline. I feel have exaggerated the character a fair amount and the events even though my sister thinks I am dead on. I refuse to believe I am that crazed. I cringe at what would have happened if my sanity was that er.. questionable. I suppose I would be dancing about a room with padded walls yelling random nothings to invisible people because the meds would have me off to lala land. Ok maybe I am getting a bit ahead of myself, the truth is I am really liking this story it's allowing to explore an aspect of myself that I was never brave enough to look at. Passion is a funny thing. But I love it.
I am staying away from the campus today so I can get plenty done, like my laundry and dance around the house with music blasting and singing at the top of my voice.. Michael Jackson is complying very well to my mood so I am very happy and thanks to a super friend and dedicated reader I have every single Debussy which means I am tickled pink! The joy is bleeding out of me. Enough chatter back to work.
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