In the months leading up, RC and I talked long and hard about getting all of our preparation done early. We assured ourselves we would be fully packed, with boxes lining the walls, by the time our first moving pod arrived. Our last move had been utter chaos, so we were determined not to see that happen again this time around.
We would be ready. We would be disciplined. We would be organized.
This, of course, didn't happen.
We caught ourselves every now and then, saying, “We’re not doing what we said we were going to do. We’ll watch this movie, or play this game, or browse the internet tonight... But TOMORROW, we really get down to the business of packing!”
Then the next day would come and we’d do a box or two. A couple more the day after that. Then it would be Thursday and Thursdays are shitty, so we’d let ourselves rest that evening, saying we'd pick it up again the next day, but then the next day would be Friday and Friday is Date Night, so we’d resolve to get our work done over the weekend, but then Saturday is Saturday and who wants to wake up early on Saturday, so Sunday would come around but the next day’s a work day, so we’ll just…
And so on.
Then, about a month and a half before Moving Day, during one of these moments of clarity, I realized exactly what was keeping me from committing to the move... I was too busy trying to be a writer!
...
I know, I know. This was just more mental masturbation, convincing myself that the real problem was ANYTHING but my inherent laziness... but the thought wasn't entirely without merit. I’d spent many evenings writing when I should have been packing. And evenings when I wasn't writing, I was THINKING about writing, which left me staring off into space or listening to music... doing just about anything, but packing.
Blog posts, audio dramas, this comic, that comic, eHow articles, Geeks of Doom articles… my mind was a whirlwind of creative thought, and it was taking time away from the move-prep.
So, that day I decided I would put all creative pursuits on hold -- the comics, the articles, everything -- until the complicated and stressful act of relocation was completely behind us. I knew that once I freed up my mind to focus on planning and executing the move, things would move faster and we would be 100% ready when the day came.
And, believe it or not, it actually worked.
For about a week.
Then I started getting the shakes. Then I started itching everywhere. Before long, I was wandering the city streets offering sexual favors to any stranger who might be able to hook me up with a fix.
Because I, my friends, am a Creativity Addict.
That may sound like a self-important "Aren't I Awesome" sort of statement, but listen to me... really understand...
Quitting creativity cold turkey was one of the most enlightening experiences of my life, because it made me realize that I could not function properly without a creative outlet. If you thought I was a scatterbrain before? (...and if you knew me, you would...) Holy shit. I became a complete blithering idiot. I couldn’t focus at work. I couldn’t focus at home. I couldn’t focus while packing. I couldn’t focus while SPEAKING. I overreacted to almost everything and had more than a few emotional breakdowns over the stress of it all.
It's like whatever machine fed me all those fun ideas was also connected to my central operating system, and the minute I pulled that plug, it ALL came crashing down. Creativity was my brain's liver! Sorting out the good thoughts and the holding back the waste. You can't live without your liver, people!
It felt like I was back in school, repeating the fifth grade again because, “He’s a smart kid, but he just doesn’t apply himself.” Without a creative direction, I was utterly lost.
But... the move still happened. All that pent-up energy turned me into a human forklift. I’m pretty sure I lost more weight in those last two months than I have in the last two years, just from all the picking up, carrying, loading, and unloading I’ve done. So, there’s that, at least.
But I'll tell ya…
The minute I sat down by the window in my brand new apartment with my brand new view sprawling out before me, and booted up my laptop…?
It felt like I was back in school, repeating the fifth grade again because, “He’s a smart kid, but he just doesn’t apply himself.” Without a creative direction, I was utterly lost.
But... the move still happened. All that pent-up energy turned me into a human forklift. I’m pretty sure I lost more weight in those last two months than I have in the last two years, just from all the picking up, carrying, loading, and unloading I’ve done. So, there’s that, at least.
But I'll tell ya…
The minute I sat down by the window in my brand new apartment with my brand new view sprawling out before me, and booted up my laptop…?
Release.
...giraffe? I just don't get the giraffe. I'm with you the entire way - except for the giraffe.
ReplyDeleteMy muse doesn't look ANYTHING like a... ::walks away, muttering::