1. Calling your government reps, city and state.
Fact. Thank besotted frantic Christ, right? Eff. What is it about five phone calls a few times a week that sucks the life right out of you? Oh I remember, fascism and the several jillion splerps scattered about that belligerently insist we’re all crazy and sub-human. Hahahaha I remember now.
2. Crying over a dead friendship in the hopes that they’ll psychically know and suddenly and for no apparent reason care immensely and feel badly about fuck ups and then tell you so.
Myth. Whatever this is all hypothetical and anyways I have three dogs and this stupid fucking hat that I’m knitting so I clearly don’t even have time for this broccoli-fart-tainted myth. *weeps into armpit and rewatches all of Firefly for the 17th time this week*
3. Writing earlier rather than later.
Fact. Mostly shut up, though. What’s particularly grating about this fact is that I should know this, given that practicing violin is exactly the same fucking thing for me. I’m definitely not figuring this out on Daily Writing Post #x³ where x = 4 jillion or anything. Shut up.
4. Friendships that are tangible.
Fact. Well, tangible in that there’s nothing really tangible, but all of a sudden the trust between the two of us is thick and unfaltering and grinning from ear to ear even if both of us are grief riddled exhaustion in huddled heaps, miles away. So, myth, I guess. But really no, fact. They work.
5. Loving your job so much that the logistical bullshit just doesn’t matter that much.
Myth. Whoever rawked infamously about pick a job that you love so it doesn’t feel like work is an overstretched tube sock of greasy lies. First of all, loving something doesn’t make all the effort and time that goes into nurturing and caring for that love somehow not the very essence of hard work. What math is that, even. Seriously, never build a bridge. Ugh. Second, ‘logistical’ is adulting code for ‘things that will eventually break you because insomnia and zero self respect are real things that factor into psychotic breaks and all those axes you coincidentally own.’ Fair warning.
6. Knitting 12 teeny stitches a day because what is time management will quickly lead you to hating all of every hat that ever deigned to sit on some perfumed wad of coiffed snideness, resenting the yarn color to such a degree that you may or may not have heavily considered wiping your dorito dust laden fingertips all over it because whatever that seemed easiest at the time, and ultimately, realizing that you lack the mental stamina to remember the fuckbunny stitch you learned seven seconds ago.