It's 10:00 and I just sent Craig to bed. He was the walking dead. He worked 90% of the weekend, got 3 hours of sleep last night so that he could get into work today to help one of their clients go live, and came home exhausted.
Oh, and wouldn't you know it, but his phone just went off and now he's taking a work call. The poor guy never gets a break.
I'm still in my funk. I have no idea why it's lingered for so long, but it seems to get exacerbated just when I think it's finally going to go away. The thing the past couple days has been my frustration at seeing mediocrity rewarded. I'll admit, I'm a snob about a lot of things. I think you should work for what you get. I hate that people can exert minimal amounts of effort and reap rewards greater than people who worked their tails off. I especially hate that people need to take advantage of others in order to attain certain goals. I can't go into specifics, but the whole thing has me questioning why I even bother trying so hard. It makes me want to throw everything away---my writing, my goals, the fandom---and say to hell with it.
Part of it comes back to my inability to meld into any one clique, I think. Regardless of the social circle, I always inevitably feel like the odd man out. I'm going to PhauxCon in less than 2 weeks, and I already feel like I'm not going to fit in because I'm probably one of the few who isn't going to the Serenity screening. I'd just much rather stay back in my hotel. I'm going to be the person sitting silently in the back of the room because when it comes to discussions or panels or the like, I don't talk in public. Hell, I don't really talk online except here. I lurk on 98% of the places I go online. I just don't have anything of worth to say. I'll smile, and nod, and realize that I'm hugely out of my depth with most of the people surrounding me. Do I see tremendous philosophical depths with the Buffyverse? Want the truth? No. I see these posts where people draw all these tremendous parallels, and rich discussions, and I think, Well, I thought Buffy looked too skinny. :P The deep thinking is just not me.
What is me? I want to tell stories. I want to make people forget for a few minutes at a time. Writing isn't even my preferred way of doing that, but that's the only route I can viably take at the current time. Given my druthers, writing is actually so far down the list that it still manages to shock me that I've created as much fanfic as I have. I'm not a writer. I wonder sometimes why I try and fool myself into thinking I am.
Warned you this was mopey. Maybe Craig isn't the only one who's tired. I should probably quit while I'm ahead.
Just ignore me. I just needed to get this out. Exorcism is good for the soul, right?