theangrysloth

Wanes

The urge to write went away again. But here I am forcing myself to post this and explain that. I guess I'm going to go silent again for a few months. When you don't contain the emotion to write, it becomes hard. When you have the spirit in you, you *have* to write, you *have* to create. I have to find something that gives me that spirit. I need to find something that won't run away on me. Some kind of muse, other than a person. I don't know. Maybe I need to get involved in a community of it. Maybe that's why the poetry festival made me spirited. Maybe it wasn't all about *her*. I've got to be strong, and force myself. I have an inch, now. This here is a start. I hope it's a start.

Work was terrible. The kitchen was totally dead, and my coworker and I waited for hours for something to do, because the food supply delivery was late. When the end of our shift was fifteen minutes away, the delivery came at the exact same time the dinner crowd started coming in, and what was a slow and painfully boring day ended in a wretched torrent of chaos and crap. As usual, I'm almost the only one who knows what's going on in that damn ship.

I had some martinis to calm me down, afterwards. I need to start drinking on Mondays exclusively. Martinis are cheaper on Monday. Monday could be my night of the week.