Mike: Take your Meds!

Okay, I'm just kidding here.

Feeling weird, though. Sorta bummed out without a reason. You see, things are really going well for me, but I've come down with a case of the blues.

Thinking about blogging: When I first started blogging, my header started off with "Unloading my brain..." So now that's done. I mean, seriously. I feel like I've successfully gotten in the habit of getting things off my chest via blogging, without getting too crazy-serious about them.

Then I realized that these short vignettes are the start of other writing, perhaps character sketches sometimes or the reminder of events.

Question I get ALL THE TIME: Are your stories true? Answer: YES, dammit!
Follow up answer: but they're a little embellished, right? Answer: well, not really, except for maybe some tongue-in-cheek humor which should be pretty obvious...

The downside: I feel cheesy writing things that aren't true stories--I've tried doing it and I realize that I'm not all that good at it. What I am very good at doing is noticing subtleties in true events. Hmmmm. Maybe even things that aren't even there, but imagined. But if I intentinally try to make them up, it feels so contrived. So, maybe I'm doomed to suck as a writer.

A blog I was going to try to do anonomously: I was going to name a blog something like: Spy Stories. Then put in snippets of conversations that I hear all around me (yes, eavesdropping, if you have to put a specific name to it). And stories about people doing clandestine things that they don't want known in broad daylight. I was going to even lie about what city I was in and everything, and try to disguise my writing style. And I wasn't going to tell anyone about it. But that felt kinda creepy. The truth is, I do notice stuff like that, and it sticks with me. Truman Capote used to tell everyone that he remembered 90% of all of his conversations...but sometimes he would forget and say 95%...I feel that way, too (my number is about 85%).

More Blogging: Since June 18th, I've had like almost 2000 hits on my blog--that feels like a lot. One person looked at 131 pages in an hour! But no comments--what the heck is wrong with you, man!? Did it suck that bad? Kinda kidding--I don't care if you don't comment, but I do hope you like it, since it is pretty much me.

Sometimes I feel like I have absolutely nothing to write for the rest of my life.

Then the next day I have 3 ideas that I have to write down, then I feel bad about pushing stories off the page so quickly....I know, I'm weird that way.

Family is good. Family isn't the problem.

Maybe it's that I can't get into a book right now.

I had a flurry of reading, which tends to give me purpose and keeps me out of trouble. It seems to be over for now. I read Shogun, Train, For Whom the Bell Tolls, and a couple of crap novels in about 2-3 weeks. Shogun (keep wanting to type "shotgun" since dove season is coming) was a killer, but it was so great that it was a little sad when I finished. I feel kind of foolish about that novel, because I feel like I was in touch with Japan while reading it, but then realized it's just a novel. And I question really how much I know after reading it.

So I told Fran that I wanted to read Tai Pan, the next Clavell novel, but can't get into it--I've "false started" about 3 times with it. And I'm looking at: Anna Karenina, which I also can't get into but I love the writing, The Three Musketeers which is great but I lost interest, A Farewell to Arms which I couldn't get into, and then a couple of philosophical books like Mere Christianity and something else I can't see without stopping typing but it's not important.

Times like these I tend to do the Email equivalent of a "drunk call" to my friends and family--write heartfelt, urgent emails that are later embarrassing. Not good.

Work is okay, and maybe not. I'm being successful but I come in daily contact with a herd of unsupportive beaurocrats who are driving me nuts. If I need something to help a customer, and send an Email indicating that it is urgent, it seems to go on the 24-hour waiting list. If I was paranoid I would think they are just trying to teach me a lesson in patience. But my colleagues report that they get the same treatment, so I know I'm not being targeted.

When I've raised a fuss about how frustrating this is, nobody in the company seems to give a shit, so it ends up making me look like a raving maniac for rocking the boat so vigorously. The funny thing is, I'm probably one of the mostly highly productive people that we've got (blush), so it really has much less impact on me than on the other guys, but it seems to bother them much less...

So, back to my meds: Where's that Bailey's Fran gave me for my birthday?