I know at four doctors I need to schedule in. . . Maybe four if I need a specialist for my hands. ( They keep swelling, and my joints hurt. It hurts sometimes to hold a pen or fork.)
I’m doing camp Nano but I’m only giving myself a word count of 30,000 for my main goal. It’s only 1k per day. I thinkmi can type that. I did 35,000 both last August and November. I how to write a book of short stories. I talk more about it in my writers blog. . . Rebekah Quinne
I also hope to walk at least three times a week. I want to get in better shape and get more energy. I’m hoping to sleep better from it and get more focus.
The thing is I’m doing this for me. I’ve learned that I need to focus on myself and heal myself before I can help others.
I hate snow and my body hates cold. My joints are achy. My head is pounding and I’m so tired . . . My body cannot relax.
I miss walking. I miss warm breezes.
I wish I could live in a place that was mostly sunny. . . 70`s during the day and 50`s at night. However no snakes, bugs, spiders, or bees. (I know we need those for flowers to grow, but I am more of a city girl anyway, not a farm/country girl. I just want to be able to go outside for a long walk and worry about ice.)
The problem is that most people want that too so it would belong the rich for vacation escapes.
It honestly only exists in my dreams. . . Sighs.
After my semi vanilla relations, (Oct to Dec (2017)) . . . I’ve learned I cannot not go vanilla, but I do want to date and cuddle.
I want a positive, ambitious submissive boyfriend. (I do not want a mindless drone or a complainer.)
However I’m slowly learning that life or fate will never put you in the wrong spot. I learned I need to let life do it’s thing. I should not push because I feel desperately lonely.
I’ve learned life will put in me in the right place, at the right time, even if I’m confused in the present.
I just need to do my thing and Mr. Right will be there when I probably least expect it.
Meanwhile I should enjoy my life: good writing, good family, and good friends.
I just to realize I will find that genuine people that I’m into, but they are not into me. I’m not everyone’s favorite soda-pop or cup of tea.
I simply need to move on and focus and believe life knows what it is doing.
My sleep schedules are really off. . .
If I fall asleep between 7 pm and 9pm will be up by the latest 2am and my schedule is completely off.
Then I usually write 2am until 8 am and the light has known to give me migraines. Grrr.
However my body loves to sleep between the hours of 7am to 1pm (or if anyone wants to text me in the morning. )
If I get at least a good five to nine hours, I write well.
Ideally I would love to go to bed 3am and wake up by 10am and write 12pm to 5pm, but my muses have different ideas.
I try to find just a few hours for myself.
Can’t I just have six hours for out time and 18 hours of active time?
I’m usually tired all of the time.
I have to thank whom ever made caffeine my best friend. I love coffee and my Pepsi.
Things in My basket for a bad day
- Self care basket
- Chocolate brownies or cake
- Coffee with flavored creamers
- Dial shower gel (I love the feel and smell.)
- Color pens
- A book with a good twist
- Movies: comedies and chick flicks
- My tablet with my personal play list (music)
I’m writing Short Stories.
I put my feelings in each one. These are flash fiction but very personal. In the last few year my heart and soul shattered, each of these pieces are my a piece of shattered heart and soul.
I hope to find myself and piece myself together.
I’m posting them on my Short Story blog. . .
Rebekah Quinne Short Stories
Between PTSD and depression, I have not been happy.
I’ve tried sims, cooking and the rest of my content list. . .
1. Listening to music
2. Comfortably writing for hours
3. Soda pop
6. Getting out or dinning out
7. Talking to friends
9. Watching funny TV
10. Going to the movies
I just can’t get or find happiness. Why?
Ironic this writing assignment is over a week late to deadline (anniversary of Toms death January 13th.) The irony is that it was usually Tom nagging me, pushing me to finish my writing on time. Another ironic thing is Interview with a Vampire is playing in the background. Tom’s favorite movie.
Tom’s Dream Funeral
I lived with Tom for 8 years. . . I like to believe you get to know someone really well in 8 years.
As lovely and simple as the real funeral was . . . it was not what Tom would have wanted. He told first of all, he wanted to be biodiamonds. He wanted to be made into jewelry for those closest to him. I would have requested a ring for my middle finger on right hand. The right hand is my dominant and he taught me to say “fuck it” sometimes.
I think it would be in the woods with candles, latter’s and huge bonfire. We have a fake body in which we burn while celebrating him moving into a different realm. We drink, eat, listen to his favorite classic rock music. We sit around the fire and tell stories of him.
What I miss the most, I’ll never find anyone as passionate as he was. He bold, daring, loud, and rambunctious. There was rarely a dull moment with him. Whether it was him yelling at TV over wrestling or football or passionate reciting Lestat quotes from Anne Rice.
I also think I never got to appreciate the way he should have been. He taught me so much about love, hope, dreams, support, and passionate. I hope he knows he will always be remembered for his liveliness.
Tom got me into so many things vampires, ghost, Paganism, and new age. His book shelf was full of these catorgies.
I love how we used to read together.
We both studied and celebrated Paganism and exploring the dark spiritual realm.