Five things I’ve learned this November
#1: To lower my standards
1. To lower my standards
I started out thinking I knew what I wanted to write, but it was something for which I had really high standards. On each of the first two days, I spent ten hours working on my post.
But when you have to post every single day and also you’re working part time and there are people to meet and events to attend, you are just… not going to be able to write something good every day.
On day three, one of the coaches said “Have you considered just yeeting out some trash?” and I said “I’LL NEVER CONSIDER THAT!”
Christ did the me of 25 days ago have incorrect expectations. Now I yeet out trash every day and who even cares! Nothing matters!
2. 30 days is too long for a sprint
Labor activists fought hard for a two-day weekend, and we said fuck you to all of that. Thirty days! No breaks!
On the eighth day, a Saturday, hypomania was in the air. Or at least, it was in me, and a few other people were also wide-eyed and giggling too much and really needed to take a deep breath. I declared a rest day on Sunday, but that just meant we had to post early. It was restorative, but fleeting. We must always post. There is no life without post.
By the fourth week, people were looking haggard. Falling asleep in the common areas at random times. People who live offsite stopped showing up as much. Personally I am so deeply exhausted that I don’t know how I continue dragging my sack of flesh out of bed every morning.
3. I like being around (these) people
I have been borderline agoraphobic (to a fluctuating degree) since 2020. I normally spend very little time with anyone except 2-year-olds and my boyfriend. I have been sad about this but also part of me thought it was necessary — I’ve always been an introvert, and then I kept getting hurt, so I stayed away from people.
This month I was around people pretty much nonstop every single day, and it turns out I craved it. Not just because of FOMO, but because the interactions built me up. I basically always felt better for having talked to someone. I would stay up way later than I should because I’d rather be with these people than sleeping, even though I’d seen them every day for weeks.
4. People who spend a whole month at a writing retreat are not good people to ask about having a normal job
I work as a nanny, but I don’t necessarily want to do that forever. But when I ask other people what they do they’re like “I work one day a week as a wealth manager” or “I make $800/month from posting on Twitter” or “my country has a really good welfare system”.
So, I haven’t really figured out how to get a job.
5. I want to write songs
Writing blog posts is easy, you just yeet out some trash. (Just kidding, I would also like to publish blog posts that I spend more than like twenty minutes writing. That’s a dream for the near future but certainly not right now!)
But writing songs. Wow. That’s the good shit. You get to put all your feelings into poetry and capture something beautifully — but then, unlike poetry, which no one ever reads, people will actually listen to you sing it. Especially if you trap them in a room and make them listen.
And they’ll say, “Wow, that was beautiful, you’re so talented, you should record that, sing it again!” And their cheers will fill your ears and your heart. I love writing poetry and I love singing and I love performing. God I just want to write songs.
Your songs and singing are great! I find your work enlightening and helpful. Onwards!