I'm So Full of Fears.

One of my chief fears is that I've lost my edge, along with some of my creativity. I find that I am more frequently uninspired or bored - since I got to college, that is. I feel like before I found ways to occupy myself more.

Regardless, I'm more or less happier now than I was then; I'm getting into my own groove, figuring out my lifestyle, and I enjoy that. But I have seen where my other joys are starting to slip away. I need to make a more concentrated effort before they disappear entirely.

I think I'm far more wrapped up in myself than I used to be, which is probably part of the problem. Not that it really is a problem; I think it's something important that I didn't do enough of when I was younger. I'm making up for it now, though, I think.

I think that being in a relationship has a lot to do with my recent (past year or so) delving into self-ness. It's good progress, reflecting on why I am the way I am. What's bad about it is that I pick out my insecurities as well and dwell on them and feel guilty and ugly because of them. Thankfully, I have a partner who is very understanding and patient; I'm very, very lucky.

I have been doing slightly more writing of late, between this blog, my personal journal, and just things that I write when thoughts occur to me. I'm working on doing more artwork for myself, but that's hard with no income and very little time. And the thing about getting a job would be that I would be getting more money, but also losing more free time to do personal artwork. A conundrum.

My lack of money has become so stressful that I actually had a dream involving it this morning; I was in a bookstore with my family, and my mother asked me what I thought I was doing looking at books when I didn't have any money. I snapped back at her that I had a gift card, and when she asked me why I had to be so snippy about it, I replied that "I am very aware of the fact that I have no money, I hate being reminded that I have no money, and I don't want to think about the fact that I have no money. I think about it too much." Obviously, that's the truth if I'm thinking about it in my dreams. Oh boy.

My dreams the past two nights have been violent, which also worries me. They're nowhere near as graphic as some I've had in the past, but that doesn't make them any less worrisome. If there are people dying in my dreams by violent means, I think I have every right to feel concerned. What the hell is going on in my head?

On the bright side, I have come up with an idea to submit to Space 242 and I should have adequate time to work on it, perhaps. I just need to be better about getting work done and allotting time for everything.

Also, James and I are kitty-sitting for our friend Panda. The feline in question is a black tortoiseshell named Rashia who has seven toes on each of her front paws. She's pretty sweet, though taking a little time to adjust. She keeps heaving and not following through with a hairball, which I'm sure is perfectly normal but sounds pretty stressful. I'm here in James's room watching her while he's out and about; she has tried to walk behind the spider tanks a couple times already, and we really don't want Mehitabel or Ungoliant crawling around the room or getting mauled by a cat. Jasper, the ball python, is pretty safe; he's in a ten-gallon fish tank with a very secure lid.

The cat, at the moment and for several hours now, is sleeping on the office chair. That's where she spent a good deal of time last night while we were watching a movie, as well. I assume she likes it because it's dark. She crawled into bed with us last night a few times, only once not at the foot of the bed. James had her at his chest for maybe seven whole minutes before she decided to roam again.

I skipped Italian this morning because I was beat from waking up and/or not being able to sleep because of the cat. Around seven this morning she decided to jump up on the shelf with the spiders again and James had to coax her down. I would have woken up at that time and gone to bed again anyway until getting up at eight, but I was just too pooped.

So I have spent today doing homework, mostly. I have some more reading to do for tap class tonight, and then I don't know what I'll do (which is probably part of the reason I'm blogging - to kill some time). I might actually take a nap; I find that they're helpful for me, especially if I have classes that go until ten at night. I suppose it's time I could use to do something creative, and maybe I'll decide to, who knows.

Anyway, a lot of blather about nothing in particular. I'm off.