Soap Operas and Withdrawal

Yep, that's pretty much how I'm feeling at the moment.

No, I’m not experiencing withdrawal from soap operas. There’s no such thing, in my opinion. I mean, I can go 6 months without watching Days of Our Lives and be caught up on everything again within a week.

The withdrawal I’m going through is from nicotine. And holy fucking shit, I’m stabby. Really, really stabby. This time, it’s going to be permanent. I ran out of smokes last night with $10 in my purse to last us until next Thursday. We checked the gas gauge in the car, pissed away the money on horribly unhealthy fast food that was ohsovery delicious, and I smoked the last of my cigarettes after cleaning the house. Since I’m broke for the next week, I figure this is the perfect time to just deal with the bitchiness and the depression and the insomnia and quit smoking for good.

Have I mentioned lately that this shit is fucking hard? This is why it took me so long to start smoking the first place— I just don’t have the balls to live through getting over an addiction. Fuuuuuuuuuuuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

I’ll work on my other bad habits after this one is out of my system. You know, once I can go 5 minutes without thinking about how much I want a fucking cigarette.

Anyway. I’ve been distracting myself with soap operas. Why, you ask? Because reality TV tries too hard, and because I need to be watching Days when they finally get their heads out of their asses and bring back Dr. Mike. And you know what? I’ve learned a few things while trying to figure out who the hell all these random people are.

She really doesn't have much to live for. Might as well end it now, get a teary funeral, and leave with dignity.

 1. Carly’s suicide would make an awesome storyline.

I know, that sounds really fucking mean, but let’s just pretend that’s the rebellious, pissed off addict in me talking. Seriously though? I don’t want to see a soap-opera-riffic intervention, or watch her find love (and Jesus, let’s not forget Jesus) in rehab. Fuck that. I want to see her give into the pressures of being ugly, alone, and second best to the Horton women in the eyes of… everyone.

I hope she gives me a shout-out in the suicide note. “Cyberhomewrecker” would be sufficient.

 

 

 

"Yeah? Say that a little louder, my hearing aid is on the fritz!"

 

2. This whole multi-generational cast thing they’re trying to cash in on?

Really fucking stupid. It was bad enough with Victor and Stefano constantly trying to outdo each other. Who wants to watch geriatric fucking gangsters? But add in a “sisterhood moment” with Julie and Maggie and you’ve lost me. As for the teenage storylines– if they’re going for realistic, they’re failing miserably. These kids don’t spend nearly enough time texting, ignoring everything around them, and making ironic comments that they think are entertaining when in actuality they just need to shut the fuck up. Granted, I don’t know much about what’s going on because they don’t show the teens very often, but still. Cut the crap and bring back Dr. Mike.

 

I couldn't find a picture of her with a halo, and I'm too lazy to paint one in.

 

3. Jennifer is a fucking douchenozzle. She comes off as that annoying friend who you hold on to and invite to things because she’d do anything for you if you needed her to, and because of that you’d feel guilty cutting her off. She is a great person, and that’s her downfall. She’s a Horton, and she’s Dr. Mike’s little sister (I like her because she’s one of very few women on the show that I know for sure won’t be found in bed with my future husband). She’s holier than thou, but she doesn’t have that attitude about her. She has that whole “I genuinely want to help you just for the sake of making the world a better place” attitude.

It makes me fucking puke. I mean, how am I supposed to live up to that when she’s my sister in law after I marry Dr. Mike? With lots of fucking nicotine, that’s how.

 

 

Then there are the questions. So many fucking questions. The most important one, of course, is:

When is this show going to get interesting again?

The easy answer to that would be “whenever they can get Mike to come back.”

In the meantime, they should really work on answering my other questions.

Who the fuck is Dario, and why should I care?

How many siblings does Rafe have?

Why did EJ and Nicole ever get back together?

Can I see EJ naked?

What’s Jensen Ackles up to nowadays? Any chance he could come back?

Since when does Vivian have a son? And why the fuck is he Australian?

Sometimes, I get a strange tingly feeling in my lady parts. What causes it, and how can I fix it?

Need another writer for Days of Our Lives? Cause I need a fucking job, and you need some new storylines. Just saying.

 

 

Psssh, I bet you thought that after a month of not blogging, I’d come back with something interesting. Ha, right. I’ll try to stay away from my blog in my withdrawal-induced craziness, but I guarantee nothing.

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It wasn’t failure. It was just a success that didn’t come to fruition.

I’ve been awake since 5:00 am. I know, that’s normal for a lot of people. For me, being awake that early usually means I haven’t gone to bed yet.

I decided before I rolled out from under the covers that I was going to be productive today. Three hours, a shower, and a big cup of coffee later, I’ve accomplished… absolutely nothing.

Sigh.

I want to be writing right now. “But you are writing!” you argue. Sure, it looks like I’m writing. What I’m actually doing is thinking while my fingers are on the keyboard– that doesn’t count as writing. Writing is what I do when I have a notebook and a pen and a story idea that my hand can barely keep up with.

I started this story a few months ago. It’s called Finitely Endless (mostly because I love the opposition of that title), and I think it has potential. I’d tell you about it, but chances are someone here will read all the details and make it into a complete, marketable novel before I do. Maybe I should just hire a ghostwriter– I supply the idea, they supply the filler needed to create 300+ pages of literary gold.

I got a page and a half in before I started to doubt myself. I went back to read what I had written before, and I don’t like it.

I really need to find a more forgiving critic to look over my work. Unfortunately, my only choice is my husband, and he’s a little biased.

So now what? I’ve read the few blogs that have already been posted today, and I’m feeling ready to lay down and go back to sleep for a few more hours. I could play some Super Mario Brothers, but I’m guessing my lack-of-sleep attention span will make my game a disaster. It’s a perfect day to go garage saling, my favorite spring activity EVER, but I’m broke. Sigh.

And also? My office smells like a litter box. I’m not sure exactly what my cats have marked– whatever it is, I need to find it and get it the hell out of here. Quickly. I swear, I have the five most possessive cats who ever lived. I’m surprised they don’t pee on me in my sleep to remind each other who I belong to.

Sigh, again.

I should probably work on a more detailed outline for this story. I’ve already decided what I want to accomplish in the first few chapters, but I don’t have a detailed structure to work with. Seems like as good a place to start as any, I suppose.

I’ve decided to start treating writing like a real job– granted, I’m not sure this commitment will last more than a day or two. I want to be at my desk by a specified time every day, and write for at least a few hours. I figure since I’m unemployed, I can at least pretend like I have a real job.

This was a lot more fun when I was little and the careers required less work… just saying.

If I were my boss, I’d tell me not to come back tomorrow.

But beginnings are hard! And so are middles! Endings, on the other hand– I can handle those. I can make endings my bitch.

At least I’ve got a good title…

To my fellow writers– got any tips to help me get started? Any words of encouragement? Is it possible to make my story write itself?