Ginger Peach Tea Bag Soaks Paper Cup

I'm at my favorite coffee shop. It's just a couple blocks from my apartment, and I tend to write best here. Today, I'm here with Tammy, and I have accomplished nothing in the couple of hours we have been here. I have a mug from here that I can refill with tea for $1 each visit. Unfortunately, over Christmas it got separated. The bottom part of the mug is at my parents' house and the top is at Leslie's house (it's a long story). Therefore, today I paid full price for my tea and had to get one of those wasteful paper cups with a plastic lid. Now, all that remains is the soggy tea bag, slowly soaking into the paper cup. It's so much more exciting when I can watch the steam swirl above it. Now, it just sort of feels dead...so much for inspiration.

Last night I wasn't feeling well, so I went to bed at 10. I slept all day too. I think it was just a headache mixed with my acid reflux, which has been causing a terrible cough, heartburn, and stomach issues. I have started taking medicine again for it, but I think I might have to start altering my diet, which would be tragic, because all of my favorite things are bad for acid reflux: chocolate, tea, pizza, pop, and beer. How would I survive?

It's weird not living with Leslie. I think this weekend will be typical of what my average weekends will look like: I go out Thursday night, and then do nothing the rest of the weekend. I must say it's a little lonely, but will be good for my reading and writing. I have a lot of both to do this semester. My independent study is going to really push me. To be honest, it will be pretty flexible, and I think if it got to be too much, I could tell my professor. Yet, never again will I get to have this one-on-one sort of structure with deadlines to force me to write my book. I not only want to live up to the expectations, but I want to exceed them.

My professor gave me a line to start this week's draft with after my conversation with him about where to go next with my book. I shall begin with something along the lines of, "When I was a child, I believed I was supposed to be a saint." I will then use this to explore both my mental health problems that may have been influenced by such beliefs and my spiritual journey. I hope to use humor in this book despite it's serious nature. I went to a panel at AWP with one of my favorite writers (Marya Hornbacher) called "Sick Humor." They emphasized the importance of using humor while writing about illness, so it doesn't look like you're seeking pity or anything of the sort. I also want to do some humorous writing for my fiction class. That's the kind of writing I excelled at in High School. I don't know when I got so serious. I think once I got brave enough to write about serious issues, I looked at writing humor as something more shallow--which is definitely not true. I just needed to experience both sides to further develop my humorous writing. My first fictional story is already pretty serious with the exception of a couple smart-ass remarks. I guess, we will see where this semester takes me as a writer and a person. I can't believe it's my last one.