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May. 6th, 2006 10:09 amI'm sitting in Panera's, listening to classical music, drinking coffee, feeling rather decadent. This makes me realize how much I need alone time...the fact that just the act of sitting here at a table and typing, by myself, feels hedonistic in the best of ways. I can't believe I brought earbuds to Panera's...right now piano arpeggios flow over me like rushing water, and then give way to a melancholy groan from strings, and then the playfulness of the piano starts up again. The piano's saying, "Come and play! Life is grand!" and the strings are saying, "My head hurts...my back hurts...go away..." I find myself hoping that the piano will convince the strings and that they will suddenly break into some allegro movement reminiscent of traditional fiddling, something more folk than this grief. Alas, they're not humoring me. Strings in classical music (at least, the classical I know, which isn't much, admittedly) always sound so plaintive.
I'm supposed to be writing, and I suppose technically I am...but I'm 'supposed' to be working on my short story in progress, and I haven't started yet. That in itself feels a bit like self-indulgence and a bit like masochism...I can't get this voice out of my head that says, "You're no good at fiction," over and over, a mean mantra. I tell myself it doesn't matter, that this is just for me, just for the experience. But then putting myself through the experience of sucking still seems unsatisfying. Yet, I won't get better if I don't write. Those are W's words, not mine, but they're true ones.
I like that feeling of losing myself in the lives of characters, of delving down deep inside myself and seeing what I can bring back up. Usually I can get to deeper things in the poetry, if I try. But with poems, I'm there for just a few moments. With stories, I lose myself for a protracted period of time. I like that feeling of being so completely absorbed in a project that I sink completely into it, that I don't really completely resurface right away. I miss it; I can't reach those states in daily life. Here at Panera's I have a bit more of a chance of doing it. But do I have the courage? Do I have the willpower? That's really the question...
I have managed to avoid spending money on fancy coffees or sweets, which is another milestone in the eating healthier department. I'm having regular coffee w/a bit of half-n-half (Yes, I know it's fattening, but if I'm trying to make my coffee a bit richer and tastier, then skim milk is a joke) and a tiny bit of honey and cinnamon. It's not sweet enough to cut the taste of the flavor of the coffee. It's good, although next time I might try the hazelnut. That said, decaf might be better for the next round--this is a pretty freaking big cup of coffee.
Dave doesn't have to be at work until 4pm, though I'm sure I won't be here that long. There's a house waiting for me to clean it once I get back home, and no doubt squirrely children. But for now, there's rich coffee and beautiful music and free wireless. Sometimes, that's enough.
I'm supposed to be writing, and I suppose technically I am...but I'm 'supposed' to be working on my short story in progress, and I haven't started yet. That in itself feels a bit like self-indulgence and a bit like masochism...I can't get this voice out of my head that says, "You're no good at fiction," over and over, a mean mantra. I tell myself it doesn't matter, that this is just for me, just for the experience. But then putting myself through the experience of sucking still seems unsatisfying. Yet, I won't get better if I don't write. Those are W's words, not mine, but they're true ones.
I like that feeling of losing myself in the lives of characters, of delving down deep inside myself and seeing what I can bring back up. Usually I can get to deeper things in the poetry, if I try. But with poems, I'm there for just a few moments. With stories, I lose myself for a protracted period of time. I like that feeling of being so completely absorbed in a project that I sink completely into it, that I don't really completely resurface right away. I miss it; I can't reach those states in daily life. Here at Panera's I have a bit more of a chance of doing it. But do I have the courage? Do I have the willpower? That's really the question...
I have managed to avoid spending money on fancy coffees or sweets, which is another milestone in the eating healthier department. I'm having regular coffee w/a bit of half-n-half (Yes, I know it's fattening, but if I'm trying to make my coffee a bit richer and tastier, then skim milk is a joke) and a tiny bit of honey and cinnamon. It's not sweet enough to cut the taste of the flavor of the coffee. It's good, although next time I might try the hazelnut. That said, decaf might be better for the next round--this is a pretty freaking big cup of coffee.
Dave doesn't have to be at work until 4pm, though I'm sure I won't be here that long. There's a house waiting for me to clean it once I get back home, and no doubt squirrely children. But for now, there's rich coffee and beautiful music and free wireless. Sometimes, that's enough.
