Reflections on Life After Watching Disney-Pixar's Soul

I finally got to see the new Disney-Pixar movie the other night -- Soul. Being the giant, overgrown kid-at-heart I am, I get very excited about new Disney films as a rule, but I was extra eager to see this one. Not only does it have a Black lead and contain many references to Black culture -- something I'm happy to be seeing in more media -- but jazz music is an integral part of the film's theme, as well. I've come to love jazz, especially as I get older and increasingly excited about different kinds of music.

I liked the film very much in general. Still, I especially enjoyed its primary message about the concept of life purpose and how it addressed many common questions people have on the subject. 

• What does it mean to have a life purpose?
• Is your purpose about your profession of choice or something else entirely?
• What does it really feel like to finally realize your most significant, dearest goals in life?
• Where do little pleasures and daily experiences fit into the picture?
• Is it possible not to have a purpose, and what happens if that's the case for you?

At nearly 45, I've managed to answer many of those questions for myself, but it took me a while. Joe was my favorite character, so I'd love to say I was just like him -- maybe a little misguided, but always sure of what I wanted to do with my life. I'm really the spitting image of Soul 22, though. 

Like 22, I believed that I didn't have a life purpose for an extremely long time, especially when I was younger. While everyone else my age seemed to know exactly what they wanted to do with their lives, nothing seemed to resonate with me at all. I did know I enjoyed being creative -- drawing, writing, playing piano, and the like -- but there was no way to turn those things into stable livings that actually appealed to me back then. I didn't want to put on a suit and design logos for some soulless corporate entity or settle for teaching schoolchildren about the things I wanted to be doing myself. I especially disliked the idea of having to commute to an office every day.

On December, News Break, and the Holiday Blahs

I suppose there isn't much left of the dumpster fire that's been 2020 at this point, although it hardly matters. It's not as if something magical is going to happen the minute the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve or anything. The world will still be as it is, and we'll still be as we are -- hurting but healing and figuring out what's next for us. But that is, without a doubt, one of the more valuable lessons I've learned this year. 

You may not be able to control all of your circumstances to the extent you'd like, but you have total control over how you react to them. As someone who's had to teach herself to willingly take the reins of her own life over the years, I'm pretty proud of how consistently I showed up and showed out this year. I managed to turn some of the worst challenges of my life into fruitful, productive ways to earn, heal, and express myself this year.

This has especially been the case with my writing. I ended last year as a burnt-out copywriter who wasn't even sure how she'd be making ends meet in the year to come. I'm finishing this one in a completely different place. Not only did I find newer, better avenues for my copywriting skills, but I also became a professional blogger and found paying outlets for what I think of as my "real" writing. I completed the first draft of a book this year -- my very first stab at book writing ever to result in a finished manuscript. I have a running list of additional avenues I'll be exploring in 2021 and beyond, as well. I'm exceedingly happy with where I am right now and excited about everything yet to come.

........

Like a lot of my friends and favorite writers on Medium, I've been testing the waters at News Break this month. I was invited to join their creator program at some point over the past couple of months, but I slept on it a while, as they seemed to be looking for citizen journalists as opposed to writers who do... whatever the hell it is I do. But then many writers from my circle started saying they saw some decent traffic there, even if all they'd done is republish their personal development stuff from Medium, so I decided to try the same thing. 

My Life as a Social-Antisocial Being

Like most people with the audacity to hop on the internet and share their writing every day, I get my fair share of comments from complete trolls -- especially if something I put out there starts doing really well. I've had people call me sexist (and even imply I'm queerphobic) for writing articles targeted at men who don't understand why women won't date them. I've had people tell me I'm shallow and fatphobic for talking about my ongoing fitness journey and singing the praises of an active lifestyle in general. I've even been shat on for so much as mentioning that my family was dysfunctional growing up. 

None of that actually bothers me. I've got a thicker skin than most people would figure just looking at my tarty little face. Plus, I've come to feel that trolls are a sign that whatever I wrote must have hit home on some level. Random folks only get that freaking mad at people they don't know when writing touches a nerve. I will never understand what inspires people to completely ignore the writing and comment on the writer's appearance, though.

This morning, a random reader felt the need to mention what a pretty girl they thought I was, but they really wished I showed my teeth when I smile. After reading an article I wrote about racial identity. And I genuinely don't understand what makes a person crack their knuckles and type something like that all the way out. Like, what means? What am I expected to do in response to that sort of feedback? Scramble to change my avatar to a photo of me showing every tooth in my head like a God damned donkey? Who knows anymore.

"Christmas Means Family" Is a Full-of-Shit Statement

Clark Griswold is still my spirit animal.

Now that November's over and December is officially here, we're officially in the process of shifting gears at my house. That means the Christmas lights are lit on a nightly basis, and we've officially started our yearly watchings of some of our favorite holiday films. Last night's pick was one of my personal favorites -- National Lampoons Christmas Vacation. 

The older I get, the more I think I relate to Clark (Chevy Chase) on a level I never did when I first fell in love with this film. I keep holidays very low-key these days for all sorts of reasons, but I'm usually the person in my household that does most of the planning for holiday celebrations. I put together the menus and do all the cooking. Back when my living situation allowed for it more, I used to get pretty into decorating my apartment and trying to make it feel like a magical place to be for the holidays. Sometimes I'd go overboard or fail to plan ahead well enough and wind up shooting myself straight in the foot, just like Clark, but it's probably not too hard to understand why.

Growing up, I was a very idealistic child, and my home life failed to measure up in many ways. My parents stopped loving each other at some point when I was a little kid but made the "honorable" decision to "stay together for the kids" anyway. I don't know who they thought they were fooling, though, because it was pretty apparent that neither of them was about that family life. My dad openly dated other women and was home as little as possible, even around the holidays. My mom more or less just gave up on domestic life -- hated to cook, hated doing the mom thing, and hated keeping house. Each of my parents bad-mouthed the other to my brother and me non-stop, so that was fun.

End of November Thoughts

Stéphane Audran in Babette's Feast (1987)

How we're about to put another month in the can, I really couldn't tell you. It feels like just yesterday that Halloween was approaching, and I was still planning out my November. Now it's already time to start thinking about Christmas, and my little mind is blown. It's true what they say about time as you get older. It just goes faster and faster until you're just dizzy from it. 

After today, there are only three more days left of NaNoWriMo. I'm definitely starting to run out of gas at this point in the event and will probably be happy to get back to normal, but I'm so glad I did this. It taught me a lot about how even a busy person can make room in their schedule for something new if they want it badly enough. I also really surprised myself as far as how creative I still can be. I'm thrilled with some of the stories I came up with. Some even have the potential to become very good longer works with a little patience and TLC.

At any rate, I'm definitely going to finish. I'd better! I ordered my official 2020 Winner shirt and everything. And despite not being expected to ship out until mid-December sometime, it showed up in the mail today. I feel a little silly admitting how excited I am about wearing it when I cross the finish line and hit 50,000 words on Monday, but what the hell is life for without a little childlike excitement from time to time. I've planned well enough that I'll be coming out of the event with a finished book, as well -- very exciting.

How Do You Know Whether You Can "Make It" as a Writer?

Many writers out there who specialize in content that helps others be better people are super friendly and really hands-on as far as forming a personal connection with their readers. They're good about answering their email promptly and always have a minute to chat over instant message. In other words, they're experts at forming friendships with the people who read their things. As you may or may not have noticed, I'm really not one of those writers.

One of the criticisms I've received most consistently from people who know me is that I'm distant and hard to get to know, and I really can't argue with that assessment. I'm not kidding in the least when I describe myself as introverted to the point of being reclusive. I've never been a very chatty person as far as one-on-one communication goes, even on the internet. However, I've been trying to make up for that by posting more content that directly answers some of the questions people ask me the most. 

Aside from how to get started as a writer in the first place, this is by far the question I'm asked the most often. Chances are you already know the answer deep down, but if you genuinely don't, get honest with yourself as to how you'd answer the following questions.

Do you genuinely like writing, or do you just want to have written something?

I assure you they're not the same thing. I've known so many people who love the idea of having published books or a successful blog to point to but don't really enjoy the act of writing. So, how do you feel about it? When you find yourself with spare time on your hands, is your natural response to go, "oh, good, I can do some writing," or do you spend the next several hours of your life binge-watching Netflix like everyone else? Is writing something that brings you joy or a chore that you secretly dread?

What I've Learned About Fitting a Major Writing Project into an Already Tight Schedule

I officially take back everything I ever said in the past about fellow writers who couldn't manage to stick with their NaNoWriMo projects all the way to the end of the event. Back when I used to win NaNo all the time, I didn't have anything close to a full line-up of professional and personal responsibilities to manage the way I do now. It's an entirely different ballgame when you do, as it takes more than just discipline and an iron will to keep all those balls in the air. Hats off to anyone who can make it work.

That said, I'm hanging in there pretty well this year myself. I've been staying on par with my NaNoWriMo word count every single day without exception. Keeping up with everything else writing-related I have on my plate was a challenge last week, so I spent a lot of this week playing catch-up with things like my Medium posts. I've figured out a few things along the way, though. May they help those of you who will struggle in the future to add an additional project to your writing schedules when you're already busy like a mo-fo. 

You don't find the time. You make it.

I've written some Medium content about how to optimize your ongoing schedule for maximum productivity. I'm repeating the gist of what I said here because that's how important it is that you get it. I hear people continuously talk about wishing they had time to do what they want to do because they're just so busy. 

That's the thing, though. Everyone's busy -- everyone -- and I can assure you a lot of the hyper-productive people you know are a lot busier than you probably are. They have the same 24 hours to work with every day that you do. They just got super serious about streamlining their schedules, so they're not wasting time on a bunch of bullshit, is all.

On NaNoWriMo and Other November Challenges

I'm not about to sit here and tell you it's been easy to find room in my daily schedule to produce 1667 words of creative writing every day, but I'm already glad I decided to write something for NaNoWriMo this year. Since the last time I mentioned it, I've solidified my project concept quite a bit. It is indeed a collection of short flash fictions, and I did go ahead with the idea of writing a new one every day instead of devoting multiple days to any one piece -- much better for staying excited about the project and much harder to write myself into an inescapable corner. 

I also decided to take things one step further and use a song as a prompt for each story, so I'm calling it Harmony Uncaged for now. Anyone interested can click the NaNo banner in my sidebar to check out my progress, read whatever excerpt I've uploaded most recently, and access a Spotify playlist with all the song prompts in it. I've been very good about hitting my word count every day, and I'm having a blast with the project so far. Seth's been enjoying listening to the song prompts and reading the associated stories every day, as well, so I even have a tiny audience cheering me on.

It feels indescribably good to be producing creative writing again. Journaling and blogging will always likely be my fiercest loves regarding how I choose to express myself, but there's something about letting my imagination run wild that just feels so good. It makes me want to get back into my poetry again at some point, as well. 

Authenticity: The X-Factor That Makes Your Writing Pop

I get it. As writers, we want our work to resonate with people. We want them to read it and -- hopefully -- come back at some point in the future to read more of it. We agonize over how we can make that happen, meaning we try to figure out what people want, and that's fine. But if you're not also carving out a little piece of your heart and weaving it into what you're writing in one way or another, your writing will miss the mark. It will register as empty, dull, inane, and lackluster. No wants to read more of that. There's already way too much of it out there.

I'm lucky in that I fell head over heels in love with writing through personal journaling, so I've had a literal lifetime's worth of practice when it comes to making sure my writing is intimate enough. In fact, I'd almost argue that I've had the opposite problem most writers today have. If I'm not careful, I wind up injecting more of myself into my work than people even want to see. Whichever direction you're coming from, establishing and maintaining the right balance is the key to getting where you want to be with what you're doing.

Be Truly Genuine and Vulnerable

I read an article on authentic writing from a favorite writer on Medium recently that actually took me aback a little. He seemed to be arguing that no writer is ever truly genuine when they open up a vein for you and expose their more vulnerable side. He talked about how they're really only doing it because it gets them clicks, views, read, and comments.

On Independence and Self-Discovery

"Are you happy, or are you pretending to be happy?"

We watched this movie a few days ago -- Swallow. It's about a young, pregnant housewife named Hunter (Haley Bennett) who's struggling with certain feelings. This is a life she once thought she wanted, and that would make her happy, but -- as can often be the case -- the reality isn't quite measuring up to expectations. Her husband doesn't take her at all seriously and barely sees her as a person. Hunter especially doesn't seem all that thrilled to be pregnant. It's clear she feels like the walls are closing in on her and that something's got to give soon.

One day, Hunter gives in to an odd, sudden urge she has to swallow a marble. For reasons she can't quite understand, the act makes her feel empowered, possibly for the first time in her life. She eventually swallows other objects, some of them quite dangerous. Before she knows it, she has a full-fledged habit on her hands, her husband and in-laws find out, and strife ensues. From there, the film becomes about Hunter's struggle to feel like an important player in her own life and chronicles her attempts to get there. The film was really very good and gives you lots to think about.

Much about Hunter's situation reminds me of how it felt to be married to my first husband, Greg. I was very young at the time -- much younger than Greg -- and I didn't have the luxury of being a housewife (although that is something I thought I wanted.) I definitely didn't develop the urge to swallow marbles and thumbtacks. However, Hunter's feelings of inadequacy were very familiar to me. Like Hunter, I was surrounded by people who considered my feelings and needs to be unimportant compared to everyone else's. I disagreed. 

Scattered Friday Thoughts on Writing in Stages

Officially speaking, I keep saying I'm not sure whether I'm indeed doing NaNoWriMo this year or not, yet all my actions tell me my heart's already set on it. Earlier in the week, I came up with a working title and designed a book cover on my phone while working out on my stationary bike. A Medium draft I've been picking at in bits and pieces over the past couple of days is about NaNoWriMo as a possible tool for writers. Earlier today, I was on NaNo's forums chatting up other writers before I temporarily left the office to go cook dinner for my family. 

Anything could happen between now and then to change my mind again, but I'd say I'm about 90 percent sure at this point that I'll do it. It's been so long since I did any creative writing that I'm curious as to whether I still know how. Plus, I smell possible post fodder to dip into here and there throughout November. I'm interested in seeing how I handle the event as an older, significantly more organized writer, as well. 

........

I've been noticing something interesting about my writing these days. I used to think I flew completely by the seat of my pants when it comes to deciding what to write about. However, my ideas actually go through very organized stages of evolution. They start out as thoughts on life or snippets from daily conversations that likely make it unfiltered into my private journal at some point. Most stay there because the bulk of my everyday thoughts wouldn't be of interest to anyone but me. Some eventually graduate to at least a mention in this blog or somewhere else on social media. 

On Flashbacks and Flashes Forward

I've been trying to get my shit together a little more regarding this blog lately. The craziness attached to that last Medium article that went viral over the summer is over now, but people are still finding their way here out of interest in me, so I've been sprucing up a few things. For instance, I just spent the better part of an hour reformatting old posts, fixing broken images, and all of that good stuff. Of course, anytime you're going back through any of your old work, it's inevitable that you'll at least skim some of it. That was certainly a weird experience.

I don't know that I do what other writers do and get hung up on how badly my older writing sucks in comparison to my more recent work (although I definitely do see a skill level difference.) I'm more stunned by how different my thinking is. I'm in a completely different mindset sitting here in my office writing this today than I was in most of my early posts. 

I've struggled so much in life, especially mentally and emotionally. I always did my best to put on a good face in front of others -- fake it 'til you make it, and all that -- but life, in general, always seemed so pointless and unnecessarily hard. It was heartbreaking to see Younger Shannon starting projects she was so hopeful about and quickly giving up -- all the fruitless little fits and starts. I can see in that version of me someone who desperately wants her life to matter and feel worth living but has no idea what such a life would look like or how to get there. The shadow of the person I'd eventually become is there, but barely. 

To be completely honest, I'm not really sure how I managed to get myself from there to here. When I read those older posts, I see someone who wants to die and is already well on her way to doing exactly that. I suppose I eventually sank deep enough that I was finally ready to do the shadow work. I'm not sorry those dark years in my life happened, as I wouldn't be able to write the things I'm writing now without them to reflect on, but it's hard to go back and witness them as they're happening. It's hard to read the proof of how hopeless and suffocating they were.

On Productivity and Ongoing Creative Growth

Last month, I gave an interview to a fellow writer who's working on an ongoing series about productivity. He was very nice, not to mention very thorough. He asked me about everything from my morning routine, to my favorite productivity tools, to what advice I'd give to anyone struggling to make progress on projects of their own. I am proud to say I had a good answer to give on every front.

I'm also a little surprised at myself. I've been yelling into the void that is the internet for a long time at this point, and if you've been following me around for long, you know exactly how much progress I've made over the years on that front. The part of me that still remembers being that scattered, disorganized mess can't believe I've grown into someone with an actual system. 

And let me tell you, that system makes every bit as much difference as the productivity experts have always said that it does. I keep a schedule now, and it's vitally important to me to the point where I actually get pissed off if something disrupts it. I have a calendar that I consult every single day, and it's color-coded. I'm journaling again. And I'm doing it for the sake of actual mindfulness, as opposed to simply wanting a place to vent my many frustrations with life. 

Notes On Making Medium Work for Me (and How You Can Make It Work for You)

This whole Medium thing has been a trip and a half so far for one very simple reason. I've been earning a full-time living writing for many years at this point, but as anyone who's been here long knows, I'm a ghostwriter. I've probably penned hundreds of thousands of successful words for my clients (or so I've been told.)

Meanwhile, my personal writing done under my real name has mostly gone unnoticed. I had a decent-sized audience of fellow kooks on LiveJournal back when people still wrote over there, as well as on DeviantArt during my brief stint as a fantasy artist, but that's about it. Beyond that, though, I've simply gotten used to being an unknown and just doing whatever it is that I do for my own pleasure and not much else.

I sincerely didn't expect Medium to be very different from any of that when I first signed up for their partner program toward the end of last year. I knew my experience writing for the web likely meant I'd do OK over there, but I didn't expect to truly get any attention or earn any real money. Perhaps just a few loyal readers who didn't mind listening to my drivel, just like on LiveJournal, and maybe a couple of hundred extra bucks to help out with bills now and then. That profile blew up quick, though.

Yes, I'm earning for sure, and I'm getting a lot of praise for my work. I'm also getting a lot of mail from strangers who want to know more about me and -- in some cases -- learn how to do whatever it is that I'm doing these days. Companies are messaging me, begging me to mention them in future Medium posts, sometimes in exchange for money (which I don't do, by the way.) People are adding me to their networks, hoping I'll lay some more golden eggs for them to discover and take with them in their travels. It doesn't quite seem real, and I am most definitely not used to it.

On How Retail Prepared Me for My Career as a Writer

Le Principe du Plaisir - Rene Magritte (1937)

A friend of mine was posting on her Instagram earlier all about the twisty, winding path she's taken in life to get where she currently is. Today, she has her own highly successful wedding photography business, but years ago, when I first met her, she was a waitress.

In her post, she talked a bit about why she was a waitress for so many years despite hating the job -- the easy money and the way food service requires you to "hustle" a bit for your supper. She also touched on how being a waitress back then prepared her in many ways for what she's doing now, as the two businesses are a lot more alike than they probably seem at surface value. 

It got me thinking back on the many years I spent in retail. Aside from an extremely brief period of less than a year where I worked as a vet tech, pretty much all of the traditional time clock jobs I've had were ordinary retail jobs that are a dime a dozen. Like my friend, I absolutely loathed what I was doing, and just thinking about doing it for the rest of my life depressed the shit out of me. I don't know that I'd be as good at working for myself (or at writing) as I am without that as part of my background, though.

A Very Big Win for Cat

So earlier in the month, I felt a little bit inspired on a random Sunday morning and popped off a new Medium article after weeks of just focusing on my freelancing for a while. It was an advice article aimed at younger people in their 20's, filled with all the things I wish at 44 that I'd understood at their age. It did pretty well initially -- enough to make me happy. It got curated, as well as picked up for publication by The Post-Grad Survival Guide -- very cool things that I was proud of and grateful for, but nothing that hasn't happened to a bunch of my other articles so far.

Then a couple of days ago, the damn thing started going bananas and blowing up all of a sudden. At this point, it's accumulated tens of thousands of views, reads, and claps. It's even eclipsed the initial success of that first article I published over there -- the big "beginner's luck" win I've been trying to duplicate for the past six months -- so I'm super excited. This means a very badly needed chunk of money in my account next month, as well as plenty of exposure for my work that I probably need even more. (I am trying to make fetch happen, after all.)

I think the most gratifying part of this may be the feedback I've gotten from other people. Sure, there are always a couple of trolls who feel the need to swoop in and criticize what you wrote or just be salty in general because they're big mad they're not in your shoes. The great majority of these folks who reached out to me were kind, supportive, and sweet as far as the things they wrote though. People tweeted me, they emailed me, they added me all across all my social media platforms, and they thanked me for what I wrote because it resonated with them. That sort of thing is very humbling and validating for someone like me, as all I've ever wanted in life was to be heard. 

On Being a White-Passing Black Person During a Period of Protest

My racial ambiguity means I fit into an interesting friendship niche for a lot of white people. It's relatively obvious that I'm not completely white, so folks get to pat themselves on the back for being "woke" because they're friends with me. However, I'm also white-passing enough that I don't make anyone truly uncomfortable in the way a darker-skinned black person might.

My whole life, I've been assured that this was a positive thing by black people and white people alike because I get to have it both ways. I can be proud of my blackness and claim it as part of my identity, but I can also slip into white circles without causing too much of a stir or bothering anyone.

Perhaps most importantly, I only really have to take what comes with being black when it's convenient for me. The rest of the time, I'm free to keep my mouth shut and just let people think I'm something much less threatening -- Hispanic, maybe, or Meditteranean like my ex-husband assumed I was when he first met me. And for most of my life, that's exactly what I did because it was easier for me and more comfortable for others. Who wants to make trouble for themselves when they don't have to, right?

All of the protests and riots that have been going on lately have officially found me tired of doing that though. I've always been a proud person, but that pride has officially reached a place where it extends to my racial identity as well. Yes, I'm proud to be Irish and Scottish. I'm proud to be German and to have that tiny little bit of South Asian in there too, but I'm realizing I'm just as proud to be black. I'm proud to be a part of the black story because it's my story, and I want others to know it. I especially want other black people to know I'm standing with them.

The Peace and the Stillness of It All

Things slowly appear to be drifting back into "normal" territory as far as all the quarantine measures go. This is although COVID-19 hasn't actually gone anywhere, nor have people stopped contracting it or dying from it. No vaccine has been developed, nor has any concrete plan been put in place to avoid a second wave. It's almost like the government and everyone else more or less decided to shrug and go "oh well". 

That makes me nervous. You'd think it would be making other people nervous too, especially if they work outside their homes or have to interact much with the general public to earn a living. I am exceedingly grateful that I don't have to and, to be honest, this whole pandemic has shown me just how right I've always been to simply be my naturally reclusive self to whatever extent I can. At this point, something about me others have always thought of as a personality flaw might literally mean the difference between life and death.

This has given me some food for thought in regards to how other people's minds work as well. I don't think I realized just how dependent others are on being highly interactive with the rest of society. They apparently count on others for everything, so not being able to go out and consort adds up to a complete disruption in their lives.

For instance, I don't think I realized just how many other people -- especially other women -- don't manage their own grooming routines. I knew I was unusual for insisting on cutting and coloring my own hair, but I don't think I fully realized everyone's also paying people to do their nails (even if they don't wear acrylics), groom their eyebrows, extend their eyelashes, keep their bodies free of unwanted hair, and so much more. No wonder everybody complains about being broke all the time.  

Many Departures

I never feel like I have that much going on in my life until I actually sit down to blog when it's been a while. It really makes me realize the extent to which time flies. My cat died not long after my last post. She was on the older side and hadn't been doing that well for a while, so it wasn't completely unexpected. It managed to be wholly devastating anyway though. 

I'm not the sort of person that supports wallowing in emotions like grief or disappointment -- or at least not to the point where it starts to feel like it's doing you more harm than good -- but I can't lie. This has been really hard for me. I've had many pets over the years, but Ched was just special. She's pretty much the only living being I've ever known that I can honestly say never seemed to feel anything toward me but love. It's done me so much good to know that any living thing could really embrace me unconditionally like that because it's certainly more than I can say for even the best humans in my life.

And as tough as it can be to feel sad for the loss of both big and little souls that touch lives, I've realized there's a positive side to grief. It's your proof that you experienced someone and something worth missing. I've literally had whole-ass family members and so-called good friends exit this planet without eliciting so much as a tear from me, let alone full-force grief, but looking back on those relationships, I'm not surprised. They were never there for me. They never laughed with me or cried with me. They never actually acted like they loved me or cared about being part of my life. And to be honest, the feeling was mutual. 

I know a lot of animals are unconditionally loving and loyal -- one reason I've always preferred them to people -- but Ched was that to an unusual degree. She did nothing but love me, even when I got frustrated, irritated, or downright angry with her. I worry that I wasn't always as nice to her as she deserved, but I'm sure she had to have known how loved she was regardless. I tried to show her as much as I could and to the extent that I know how. 

On Life in Lockdown and Stimulus Checks

At this point, we've all been doing the lockdown thing so long, I think a lot of us have forgotten what life was like before. Or at least I have. At this point, I'm used to this virus being a thing. I'm used to having to plan ahead more when buying groceries to make sure we have the things we need when we need them. I'm used to thinking twice before I consider going out in public (on the rare occasion it even crosses my mind).

I stay home all the time as a rule. I work at home for myself, I entertain myself at home, I pay other people to do all my shopping for me, and my social life starts and stops at social media, so the whole social distancing thing hasn't been hard for me at all. My life as a whole is largely unchanged from what it was. In fact, I could do this whole social distancing thing indefinitely, to be really honest.

Other people are another story though. They don't know how to cope with not being able to see their friends in person, go out for drinks, or spend time in public whenever they feel like it. Most of them are going stir-crazy, half from cabin fever and the other half from genuine stress over coronavirus and the very real risk of serious illness it brings with it. Some are deeply depressed and others are climbing the walls like little children.

I have to confess that the snob in me isn't impressed. As an extreme introvert and long-time voluntary recluse, I've always had people telling me how weird I am for finding it hard to fit into the rest of the world as easily as everyone else always has. It's nice (not to mention interesting) to be the one who's handling everything fine for the change. It's been very nice to be in a position to tell others to just suck it up and do what's necessary for a change.

It's not exactly earning me any friends though. In fact, it's lost me a few so far -- no one noteworthy or important so far, just more hopeless loser types leftover from my LiveJournal days whom I won't miss.

On COVID-19 and Quarantine Life

So far 2020 has been quite the trip. We're only a couple of days into April, but I feel like so many monumental things have been happening lately, both in general and personally speaking. Right now, life for just about everyone in the world is all about the novel coronavirus and the potentially deadly disease that it causes, COVID-19. 

These were things I'd technically heard of the last time I posted here in that I knew they were big deals in China, as well as several countries in Europe. We also knew there were a few cases here in the United States, but I simply assumed COVID-19 would be like Ebola, or the swine flu, or the bird flu, or any of those other super-bugs that made headlines and then disappeared long before they ever managed to touch my life. I didn't think it was even worth paying attention to at the time, let alone actually worrying about or planning for. After all, that sort of thing was for conspiracy theorists and paranoid people like my father and brother, right?

Cut to today. Most of the country is on partial or total lockdown to slow the spread of the virus because it's been spreading relentlessly, as well as killing people right and left. Monterey County, as well as the whole state of California, is under a shelter-in-place order, meaning we're all supposed to stay at home unless we absolutely need to go do something essential like buy groceries or go to the doctor. Non-essential businesses are either closed or struggling to adapt to doing business at a distance. Until very recently, people were panic-buying shelf-stable groceries and essential goods (e.g. toilet paper, beans, and pasta) to the point where grocery store shelves were bare. Even Amazon was out of stock on such things.

Keeping On, Writing On

And the adventures continue as far as writing goes, mostly to my delight and advantage. I'm not quite sure where we're standing at present with all the AB-5 stuff, but supposedly there are some changes coming up that will end a lot of the hassle, at least for writers. In particular, that ridiculous 35-article cap is supposed to be done away with, and some of the ambiguous language is set to be clarified. I'm hoping that will mean I can stop stressing over this soon and go back to writing for a living in some kind of peace.

Thankfully the initial BKA termination that hurt so badly was the only full-on firing I personally had to deal with. One of the two newer platforms I joined and had been using eventually did have to limit us to 35 articles per year per client just to play it really safe. However, they also made it crystal clear they were planning on supporting California writers through all this, and they said they'd remove the limits as soon as they possibly could.

That will probably happen within the next couple of weeks or so when the amendment goes through, and I'm eagerly looking forward to it. I really love that platform, and I'm hoping to be able to write there more often in the future, so it will be nice to be able to do that to whatever extent I want. The other platforms I've been using here and there haven't said or done anything to make me believe I have more walking papers in my immediate future, so that's been good for my peace of mind as well.

I still think about BKA sometimes, as well as many of the projects I worked on through them. There's a part of me that hopes when things stabilize a bit and people are no longer afraid to contract with California writers, I'll be able to work with them again, but I'll be fine if that never happens. Some of the opportunities I discovered while shopping around for replacements for BKA have been so positive, it's hard to be upset. If anything, I'm a little miffed at them for giving me the boot the way they did, especially in light of how supportive so many other platforms have been, but that's a whole other issue.

On the Departure of a Former Friend and Continued Writing Success

The passage of time is a really weird thing, especially when it comes to other people that are part of your life to varying degrees. The older I become and the more I change with the years, the less connected I feel to the people I used to know on whatever level. I've never been the most social person in my offline life, but I was relatively communicative and friendly online for a long while. Probably why changes in my online social life spark more reflection on this front.

I'm especially confused by a lot of my friendships with other women, both online and off. Most women are socialized to be a lot less direct and straightforward than men, so I'm never quite sure where I stand with a lot of them. There have always been at least a few who seem really conflicted as far as how they feel about me. I'll pick up on definite interest and admiration, but also an undercurrent of something darker. Jealousy or resentment, maybe. Something competitive gone completely sour.

I often feel like such acquaintances are secretly rooting for me to fail, especially if their goals and dreams for themselves intersect with mine at all, as if there's a limited amount of success to go around and they feel I'm getting more than my share. I never know what to do about people that give off that vibe -- that they don't root for me to win or cheer for me when I do. I don't like feeling like people I know are sitting around wishing evil or misfortune into my life, but I also feel like I'm not patient enough with people and cut others off way too quickly. I'm trying to be less like that, especially as I get older, so more often than not, I just let people hang around, but distance myself to stay off of their radar as much as possible.

This morning, I noticed that one of these women apparently unfriended me on Facebook over the weekend. I haven't been posting anything inflammatory lately, nor have I been leaving ambiguous comments on her posts, so I don't think the reason was anything like that. She was in the habit of leaving odd comments on some of my posts that made me feel like she resents a lot of the personal progress I've been making though -- especially when it comes to things like selfies, beauty posts, or workout/health updates. This person had been on the wagon for a while herself with all of that stuff, but she started backsliding badly around the time my own progress was becoming really visible, and I think she resents that.

On Regrouping and Looking Ahead to the Future

How we're already nearly halfway through January already, I'll never know. Don't even get me started on how an entirely new decade has up and started while I've been busy focusing on other things. I spent the rest of the time leading up to Christmas and New Year's continuing to focus on my professional and public-facing writing. Part of that involved continuing to build a presence and establish myself on a couple of the newer platforms I'd signed up with. The idea was to have turned those outlets into viable places to earn money on an ongoing basis before I was officially off the roster at BKA and really needed that income. 

Things worked out on that front a lot better than I'd hoped -- so well, I actually spent very little time writing for BKA in the second half of December. One of the two platforms I'm using regularly these days is a little more sporadic and less reliable as far as being able to go there and pick up extra work whenever I want some, but it's great for filling in my schedule here and there. The other has been working out well enough that it's definitely an appropriate replacement for BKA as far as my overall income goes. New work is posted there very regularly, so I've had plenty of things to work on. I've also managed to connect with some new regulars. The pay is really good. There's the potential to earn even more and gain access to even better projects if I work hard there as well. 

I'm hoping neither of those platforms suddenly goes tits up on me the way that BKA did because of AB-5, but I also feel like that becomes less likely the further into 2020 we get without it happening. It seems like most of the outlets that decided they wanted nothing more to do with California writers found it deeply important to give us the boot before the new year started and the new laws went into effect, so... knock on wood, and all that.