For my pleasure.

I’m having a little bit of difficulty finishing any of my works in progress including essays for The. Book.

I am the breadwinner in my household, my partner is disabled and has just started being able to get medical attention (fuck you WA, fuck you in your eye) and I don’t really make that much money.

I find I’m consumed by poor peoples concerns. I’m talking about the fact that I really need a new pair of pants, as in the three pairs of pants I own one pair is too worn to be worn in public, the other two are just really way too big and highly ill fitting. I need to get my eyes checked. My vision is awful and my current prescription is not really current. That’s another hundred dollars I don’t actually have.

It’s too cold to just go without new pants for practical reasons. I feel awful guilt that I don’t just wear the pants I have until they fall apart. I feel guilty that I want to wear things I find pleasing.

This happens fairly often. A sum result of my upbringing and things my parents did not exactly in an awesome fashion. I feel awful and guilty for thinking that I can or should do anything but work and pay my bills. Often as I grew up I got the very distinct and clear message that i was nobody to think I should be doing things for pleasure.

Much of the time my conditioning to work and make money to pay for myself is the big underlying thing that causes a lot of my anxiety. I work myself into the ground so I’m not any trouble or so I don’t cost anyone any money. As a consequence in my mid-thirties here I am.

I can be brought to full panic attack/shut down because I think I overspend on something like boots. I know rationally that because I walk everywhere and I live in Seattle I need sturdy waterproof boots. I must like them and they must be comfortable for my wee fat feet. My preference is Doc Martens and has been for about twenty years.

Doc Martens are expensive. I spent 80 on the pair I’m wearing right this instant. I bought them about five years ago and I can tell you that I still sometimes feel remorse about buying them despite the fact that I wear them almost every day and I have more than gotten my moneys worth in the hundreds of miles I’ve walked.

The point is, jesus I can’t stop rambling today. The point is that sometimes I can’t get through the panic and anxiety about pants or boots, or the phone bill to focus. I can’t always focus on creating things I think are beautiful simply for my own pleasure.

Rest assuredly, I write the things I do for my own pleasure first. The only writing advice I follow with religious zeal is to write the kinds of things I’d like to read.

So today I’m going to do some pleasure reading. I’m going to find a pair of Old Navy size 14 pants to cover my ass parts with. I will perhaps settle for a 16 if they are really low rise and no one is going to be looking at my ass.

This week I’m going to start tossing links at the four people who read this. I’ve been trying to be less shy and talk to other authors. I have some links from folks around the internets to share and talk about. Not really review but um..yeah.

So now pleasure reading.

I saw this post by Jackie Wang over at HTMLGIANT and it gave me such pleasure.

Also I really love this interview with Nisi Shawl. I kind of really have a growing literary crush on her. Also I think I may have seen her around town at some point.

That’s all I have for the moment.

Below, a photo of the aforementioned boots.



4 thoughts on “For my pleasure.

  1. I love those oxblood Docs. I had a pair in the 90’s and they never ever go out of style. Add to your “to do” list something completely decadent and whimsical. I dare you. It’s old zombie thinking that has you believe you don’t deserve nice things. For me, it’s the smallest things, like drinking coffee out of my most prized mug while sitting down to write. The rare and delicious splurge after writing. A foxy dress. I want you to have a foxy dress. I have to add your blog to my list of authors. Thank you for your consistent updates. I respect your discipline and work ethic. Now go do something capricious.

    1. After my angst I did do something lovely for myself. I picked up new pants and I bought myself some wonderful fancy perfume oils. Pants that fit and things made with love by a friend of mine are wonderful.

  2. Seems like we have a bit in common – I could really relate to this post. I’m so glad you did treat yourself! I will definitely return to read more of your writing journey.

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