Working Back Up

It was a day of bus riding. Not sure how many miles I logged, but I was riding for maybe four or five hours.

I'm feeling very inadequate. I guess I'm really not, but the feeling is there and colors everything I see and do. I see people all around me struggling and succeeding over things many times more difficult than my bullshit. I hate that I can't even enjoy my misery, that I have to see it for the pathetic thing it is. I *can* do better, just choose not to, and then wonder why everything looks so bleak.

I see only the negative, the things I've had and enjoyed and can no longer participate in. I think of those things I shouldn't, and it's no wonder I'm falling behind the rest of the human race. I don't want much, but I'm unwilling to do even the simple steps it would take for me to get and feel better.

Enough self-indulgence. Today I went out to write and got a little done. Left off when Sid will be relating his blimp story. Chris Baty is in town and we all met him at a gathering where everyone was more excited and willing to share than I was, where I learned a lot and got to hear many interesting or funny tales of writing this novel in a month. Everyone is doing well, they're all eager and laughing, and I just keep plodding on, waiting for a miracle.