Day 121: When it rains

Day 121: When it rains

Rain has returned to Southern California…and I guess pretty much all of California. I’m sure we’ve all seen the news reports about how insanely dry it’s been, and nowhere is that more true than SoCal. To this point, we’d received 10% of the rainfall we usually have. 10%. That means 90% of the usual paltry rainfall we normally see has been missing. That’s pretty insane.

Apparently, it’s really supposed to get bad on Friday night. As in, it will rain like it does up in Northern California. Real rain. LA might explode.

I know, I know, weather talk to start out a blog entry. Pretty inauspicious start. But, I am feeling a bit more normal today, thank god. It was definitely not the total lazy day that I had hoped for, but it was a day off. And it made me realize I really need another one tomorrow, so I’m going to do that. Work through the weekend and finish strong.

I’m also putting it out there, historic blog entry number 121 as the pitter patter of the storm drains echo outside my bedroom window, that I am undertaking a writing challenge for the month of March to write (at least) 1 hour every day. For 31 days. Editing and “off days” included. At least an hour. And this starts Saturday, March 1st. And this is outside of these journal posts. 1 hour of sitting in front of a screen or piece of paper, and putting thoughts into black and white. I’m excited about it, and totally nervous that I won’t actually do it.

I’ve detailed a lot in the early stages of this blog about the struggles I’ve gone through with consistency. Especially last year, when I was flailing for most of it in almost every aspect of my life. But, I turned that shit around. Got my ducks in a row, part of that being this very blog.

It’s really, really true that shit gets harder as you get older. When I was younger, I couldn’t *stop* myself from writing. It was all I wanted to do, to hell with school. But, being older and being in this town, you really do get told over and over how hard it is, and what you have to do to make it, and how few people ever do. And you believe it. You see everyone around you struggling. Giving up. Feeling desperate. And, you feel it to. Not just through osmosis, but from your own failures. It’s part self-fulfilling prophecy, and part bold-faced truth. And slowly but surely, it gets harder to sit down and write. You feel like what’s the point? Why try if no one’s ever going to see your hard work?

I don’t really have an answer for that feeling, guys. I don’t think there exists a cure. But, I do know that those who are working where I want to be got there through hard work and not giving up.

So, what else can I do but put my head down, and work hard?

I must force myself to do this thing that I love, and hope once again to remember that feeling. So, and hour a day, I will stare at that blank page, and fill it with words.

Wish me luck.

Less dramatic stuff tomorrow. Bitches.

Tonight’s sweet little futuristic scene comes from William B. Hand.