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Entry 12: Writing all the time, writing all the time ...

They say when you work in what you love, you never work a day in your life. They also say that when you work in what you love, you suffer tremendous burnout, and what you love turns into a desecrated mass of despair and forlorn nostalgia for a time when you found passion in your passions, and let your spirit guide your work, rather than jumping over hurdles of red tape to produce a hollowed-out, soulless ghost of a product for a company that doesn't dignify your time and efforts.

I don't happen to believe either (yet).

The fact that I've put this blog on the back-burner isn't because I forgot about it, nor because I lost passion for it. It's because I got what every young girls dreams of - no, no, not a meaningfully insightful relationship with a primary caregiver of the opposite sex, though I'm sure we all dream of a fantasy like that as well - it's a job. I got a job! I actually now have multiple jobs, reason being that I'm a freelancer, and I like to have my fingers stirring many pots, or however that goes. They all involve writing. It has rendered my mind sharp, and my fingers muscular (I assume). And most importantly, it's paid the bills. I can officially afford to get my nails done every two weeks, and pay for analysis myself. This is a hallmark achievement, in my mind.

Here are my general exploits of late:

  • I write 4 to 7 articles a week for these guys. I'm a little in awe that they give me so much work, so little oversight, and so much friendly appreciation. It's a great job, and I don't know how I landed it.

  • I'm writing a few newsletters for cool places that are, unfortunately, invite-only. You'll have to join some mailing lists to see that stuff.

  • My thesis is pending publication on ProQuest, so soon, you'll all be able to read about the identity of the psychoanalyst as a performance artist. It took a few months to get that polished, but I'm proud to show it off. This is a version of the topic that I gave my virtual lecture on. Maybe one day I'll take my show on the road, if Peoria will have me...

  • I just finished my novel, so I've been making the rejection rounds, with nary a literary agent interested in my romantic psychoanalytic Odyssey-like tome (quelle surprise!). I like to think about how Dune fans say that you've really got to make it through the first hundred pages of the first book to get to the "readable parts". And someone published that book. So perhaps I have a chance.

  • I also got Cool Sculpting on my chin, but I guess that's neither here nor there.

So I've been a little busy. I'm sure the echos of my acrylic nails tapping against my plug-in home office keyboard can be heard for miles around. Lucky for me, I like the sound. Tap-tap-tap!

I always got the feeling that because I'm writing for work now, spending many hours poring over the future of business, furiously researching what erudite neuroscience articles to reference in my cheesy clickbait, there would be a part of me that found either a cathartic release in writing, or was too exhausted by my 1,500-word-a-day habit that I'd resign myself to a life of milking my skills rather than using them to my own advantage. Interestingly, the work portion and the passion portion of writing don't seem differentiable to me, and I see all of it as the furthering of a goal (or a few - New York Times Bestseller, talk show guest, psychology consultant, old man in a barrel screaming about featherless bipeds, holding a plucked chicken - "renaissance woman," as I put on my "about" page). I like all of it - for varying reasons, sure - but it's fun to learn new things, disseminate the information with authority and expertise (or so my style guide says), and illicit responses from readers, good, bad, or neutral. I'm also relatively new to the work of self-marketing on social media, so there's a little glimmer in my eye when I see that some unpaid social media intern has logged into a business' corporate account and clicked the "like" button on something I've posted - nay, re-tweeted it, the highest of regards!

But I also like having the freedom to spend thirty minutes narcissistically waxing poetic about all the things I've been up to, and all the things I plan to do. I like having the time to write fiction, and write academic nonsense, and see personal projects come to fruition. It's almost like my work is the practice, and the games are all the books and articles and manifestos I plan to publish. Hopefully, now that I'm in the publishing process, I'll still have some time to read philosophy, or talk about Mekhi Becton, or write about the psychology of reality TV. I'm not quite sure what kind of content to produce in video form anymore, so if anyone has any pointers, reach out to me on one of the many online platforms I have, including on here. As for written content... God knows I'll never run out.

Until next time... know thyself! Like I'm trying to do (emphasis on "trying").

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