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Talking About the Weather
May. 14th, 2021 11:25 amI had a colossal fuck-up yesterday regarding scheduling and tried showing up to something I was supposed to show up for the day prior. I find that the worse I'm feeling, the more clouded my thought processes get, and things like time schedules get downgraded from essential to optional. As a result, I sometimes come across as a total flake. I hope I did not inconvenience folks too badly. This week, I've been dealing with the aftermath of a surprise asthma attack: a few days of heavy exhaustion, the resulting headache caused by oxygen deprivation, the increased anxiety caused by knowing my physical health and mental acuity will be affected for several days, dense brain fog, and the upset guts which always accompany my anxiety attacks.
I don't just have asthma or IBS or migraines or other body/brain malfunctions. I weather tempests of body/brain fuckery. I dearly wish I could keep the climate of my corpus to myself, that my health or lack thereof wouldn't storm-surge and flood other people's days, too. I often end up overcompensating by over-explaining my situation, which is off-putting. I know I find it irritating when someone does it to me, though I feel more empathy about it now than I did ten years ago.
I *think* I am back on track, but my brain, if not foggy, still has a precipitous mist about it. Yesterday's delightful anxiety attack and its resulting gutquake are behind me. I finally finished filling out forms for the Canada Council for the Arts grants. I'm positively dreadful at self-promotion and applying for grants, but this makes me one step closer to maybe getting some monetary compensation. I don't like money, but most people/businesses aren't into the whole gift economy thing.
I'm getting caught up on assignments for the Lit Mag Love course offered by Rachel Thompson. I'm looking specifically for literary journals run by First Nations, Metis, and/or Inuit, and they appear to be very few in number. I'm going to keep looking and see what else I can find. I've already had some of my work accepted by one of them: The Yellow Medicine Review. I'm not sure of the publication date.
I don't just have asthma or IBS or migraines or other body/brain malfunctions. I weather tempests of body/brain fuckery. I dearly wish I could keep the climate of my corpus to myself, that my health or lack thereof wouldn't storm-surge and flood other people's days, too. I often end up overcompensating by over-explaining my situation, which is off-putting. I know I find it irritating when someone does it to me, though I feel more empathy about it now than I did ten years ago.
I *think* I am back on track, but my brain, if not foggy, still has a precipitous mist about it. Yesterday's delightful anxiety attack and its resulting gutquake are behind me. I finally finished filling out forms for the Canada Council for the Arts grants. I'm positively dreadful at self-promotion and applying for grants, but this makes me one step closer to maybe getting some monetary compensation. I don't like money, but most people/businesses aren't into the whole gift economy thing.
I'm getting caught up on assignments for the Lit Mag Love course offered by Rachel Thompson. I'm looking specifically for literary journals run by First Nations, Metis, and/or Inuit, and they appear to be very few in number. I'm going to keep looking and see what else I can find. I've already had some of my work accepted by one of them: The Yellow Medicine Review. I'm not sure of the publication date.
