To finish is harder than I imagined.
I promised myself a first draft before I fell asleep (yes, I fell) yesterday. Now I am up and the story is still not quite there yet.
My instructor asked me to be patient with myself as a writer. But seeing everyone else already sprinting away from you, I need more than just patience. I need my sanity.
I don’t usually compare myself with others. I know it’s useless, and pointless. But sometimes in the dark corner of my head, I just can’t help it.
I have friends juggling four courses in our 10-week packed schedule while still finding time to socialize, to go to movies, to Facebook (I shut down mine at the beginning of 2016), to intern, to work part-time, to finish a 100-page first-draft script by Week 5, to complete a 20-page paper within two days. How the fuck is that even possible? “Well, I want to do as much as I can on a single day.” Duh, I do too.
You see, now I don’t envy people with talent. I am jealous of those who use their time so freaking well that it seems God is so generous with them that he gives them 48 hours a day and still have them function like the rest of us who needs some 7–8 hours sleeping time. I try to drink coffee and stay alert. But by 12 o’clock, I climbed to bed like a zombie. Actually, I told myself that I was going to “nap for 15 mins.” I then did another 15. The rest is history. I woke up with the morning alarm. It’s 5 o’clock in the morning. Cue the T-Pain song.
Fuck — was the first word I uttered as I got up this morning. What a fashion to start the day.
Now back to my script. F — . Strike that. I meant Finish.