**ducks head** **raises hand**
Yes, friends. I am one of those miserable souls still trapped on the Query train, and it's pretty much derailed right at the moment. So, is it any wonder that on Friday, I threw the most epic pity party anyone real or fictional has ever seen? Some of the guests are still a tad hungover, no doubt. It was that AWESOME of a party.
Now, this is where you might interrupt me, raising your hand with a confused frown etched into your brow. "But, Karla/Karlie/LastWord0524 (whichever you know me best as) I've known you for eons, and you never let that kind of stuff get you down. What happened?"
And, I could answer you with a litany of excuses from, "The day was just shitty to begin with anyway" to "All this damned cold medicine I've been consuming has turned me into a big mushy marshmallow" to "Writing tragedy has finally gotten the better of me" But, really, that is all they are: EXCUSES. Honestly, I don't even know why I reacted the way that I did, but looking back on what was going through my head on that sad day...well, I'm more than a little ashamed at my behavior.
Behavior that included the following in no particular order:
- violence against my InBox (it was brutal...that's all I'm saying)
- a very, very, very, VERY long-winded rant to one of my best beta buddies regarding the unfairness of it all (very melodramatic, I know)
- going through said rejected project and pronouncing it complete and total crap...
- which inevitably led me to question whether I actually had any talent as a writer and if I should even continue...
- which brought about the decision that maybe, just maybe I needed to take a deep breath and step back from all that is writing for a little while.
My inner self can be quite mean to me at times. Not that she's wrong. Really. What was I thinking? And, why did it take so long to snap myself out of it?
Which is why, as my self-imposed punishment for indulging in a pity party when it was SOOOO not warranted, I'm broadcasting just how close to the ledge I was. Because, really, hearing about someone else's over-reaction always makes me feel better about myself. So, I figure it's the same for you all, right? Well, if not...whatever. But, disclaimer: I'm OKAY now. Pity Parties usually only last in Karla-land for about a minute...no more than six. So, don't go reading this and freaking out that I'm that person you read about who was on top of the Chrysler Building threatening to go splat. That wasn't me...and if I ever get that far, well, I give you all leave to give me a push because if I ever get to that point...well, I just won't be the same Karla/Karlie/LastWord0524 that you all know and love.
How about all you fun folks? Have your recently indulged yourself in a Pity Party? How did you pull yourself out? Or, do you still need a hand up? Just yell, and someone will come running. Please share. I'll just be over here in Time Out until my inner-self decides that I've learned my lesson and will never do it again. :)