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Sometimes you wake up and think it's going to be a really great day and then every shit archer between here and Hawaii take aim at the same time.

I'm not saying I was hit. But damn, spending a day dodging nightmare scenario after nightmare scenario is really exhausting. Sorry for so many metaphors in such a small space but I'm feeling loose. I'll explain. Last night, I was tired, per usual. Molly was coming to visit and so was her NY friend/crush/friend-crush of a long time. She got here early and we palled around goofing off and getting all the crap of the week out of our systems before she had to pick her weekend beau (WB) up from the airport. I was coasting and excited and feeling a lot of good feelings with her being there and having spent the day with my date from Sunday, who I'll call "P" for now, coworking and sneaking off to make out. In a peaceful, blissful state I drifted off looking forward to the weekend and Friday.

Today, I had also been excited for a unique office experience that I won't get into much detail about beyond the fact that it was a sort of workshop.

I wake up and me, Molly, and WB go for coffee and donuts. Still coasting. I get to work. Still coasting. Then something happens. Sometimes we have interactions with people that are the result of misplaced feelings. For example, I react negatively to my dry-cleaner because her cash register broke when ordinarily I wouldn't--in this case, I'm late for jury duty so I'm projecting my anxiety about time onto my dry-cleaner. Make sense? This morning about five minutes after waltzing into work, I was the subject of a misplaced feeling or two. Or at least, that's how I interpret the catalyst for this day of strangeness. From there, little things, like not being able to voice my ideas fast enough or someone not understanding something I said, all began to feel like personal attacks. Honestly, having processed it out with Heather and Michelle, I see where I was too quick to fire up and why I was too quick to fire up. But I hate that it dogged the rest of my afternoon.

I want to mention something else here, another situation occurred today where what I

perceived to be a personal attack was actually much more complex. But in a way, it's still kind of an attack. Someone that I've collaborated with and who asked me to help them promote themselves and our collaboration with my marketing and writing skills back in the early months of my move, that I've done all those things for, kinda shafted me. It's complicated and I can't get into details here without jeopardizing identities but I do want to let you all know the important thing I've learned.

Here's just a little context. I'm more invested in our collaboration. And this person is more invested in their solo work. While I completely appreciate the fact that when an artist feels a creative peak coming and wants to capitalize on that, it's important, I also believe in and value the effects of collaboration as a way in which we can distance ourselves from our art and re-approach it with a better critical eye. TBH, this is not about that and I'm being petty. It's really about partnership. I love our project and I can't do it with them. And they know that. And pulling out to work on solo stuff is great but redefining the collaboration economically is not. Asking me to help you when you've told me you can no longer help me and as a condition to if you can help me is unfair.

What I've learned is that if you realize you're putting more into a situation that other people and you've become frustrated with their lack of involvement or interest, rather than goading and pushing and trying to meet them at their 10% with your 90%, get new people. Rather than complaining and stressing and bothering and micromanaging, get new people. It sucks to know that you're the only one invested in something and that people are only doing it out of some weird morality or some past promise. I refuse to have my endeavors be the result of begrudging labor even if it means that I have to work twice as hard for a while to find a new muse/collaborative partner/idea.

PHEW. Rant over. But a little relationship PS for curious pigeons below.


Speaking of misplaced feelings. I'm unconsciously and purposefully writing this post now because I am trying not to make a big deal out of these dates. When I woke up, I wanted to like repaint my room and wash my sheets and cut my hair to impress this person. NOT NECESSARY. If they don't like me when I'm grimy from biking and frustrated from drama and rosy from rage, then poo poo.


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