I woke up today feeling a little bit like a surly porcupine monster.
I'm sure it was a combination of heat and hormones, but I was pricklier than a titanium pufferfish, despite my best efforts to knock it off already. Everything was annoying me, from the dogs to the weather.
And in my writing, it showed.
I bypassed my typical kinda funny and went straight into super sarcastic territory. It was not pretty. It was not what either of my current projects needed, either.
After my third instance of hating on my main character with sarcastic asides, I knew something had to be done. Something drastic. Something that would knock me out of this little hate machine I'd found myself in.
I don't think I mentioned it here on the blogbits since I was kind of not updating at the time, but a friend of mine was looking to get rid of her bike a few months back, and since I've been all bike-lusting for a couple years now, I snapped it up so fast that my fingers left little trails of flame in my YES PLEASE CAN I GIVE YOU MONEY NOW email to her.
I named her Jezebel (the bike, not the friend) and we've been happily ticking off the miles together every few days since. (I'm aiming for every day, but, y'know, life happens. As do things like stomach flu bugs and deadlines, both of which are not all that conducive to racking up miles on the saddle of a bike.)
Today, I figured that all this prickly annoyance was probably a wee bit of anxiety on my part. (Another random fact: I've got generalized anxiety disorder. It's mostly under control, thanks to the power of chemistry. But every so often, I get some breakthrough, and it's almost always as a result of having too much energy and not enough of the blowing off of steam. Today was no different, I figured, and thought that maybe if I just hopped in the saddle and wore myself out, it'd fix things up quite nicely.
And it totally did.Nearly twelve miles of riding in hot-as-satan's-armpit heat, under the blazing daystar, with stops at a local garden shop and random places that caught my eye, and it worked. I was exhausted. And sunburned for the first time in roughly forever. And I hit a hundred cumulative miles (since I started keeping track about a month ago).
I also got pie as a totally self-defeating reward for hitting a century.
But more importantly...it got rid of the Grumpy.
Between the sun and the exertion, I was pretty tired when I got home. I only hit 2500 words for the day, not including the sarcastic thousand that I deleted.
But those words? Back to my own voice.