Well, assorted other shoes have dropped. I feel like they all landed on my head.
Home: The Young Prince brought home 2 Cs, 2 Bs and 1 A on his report card, along with a note that said, "He is smart. He gets A's on the tests. He answers the questions when I ask him out loud. But he doesn't finish his classwork, and he is disorganized and loses things." In my "this ain't gonna fly" conversation with the YP, his response was, "Well, they aren't F's!" Where the hell did I go wrong with this kid?? I think-- though of course, this is the YP so I can't be sure -- that by the end of the conversation he understood that in this house a C actually IS an F, and an F is grounds for being put up for adoption. Play rehearsals are still going somewhat well, at least -- although on Monday they introduced more kids to the cast and the boy was MUCH more interested in goofing off with them than doing his job. I think we squashed that urge, though -- the rehearsals since then appear to have gone better. Not Your Average Blogger appears to be trucking along; it's nice that there is one fairly steady and consistent force in the otherwise looly Blogger household.
Personal: Got 3 rejections this week on the book. Better than the void, but obviously not what I'd hoped for. In worse news, my computer hard drive crashed. I lost the latest versions of both scripts, all my notes, my synopses, my query letters, my list tracking what agents I'd tried... along with a zillion photos (So Christmas 2011 and the YP's ninth birthday never happened, as far as that goes,) a bunch of blog ideas, addresses, passwords, genealogy stuff, old email exchanges and other manuscripts I also thought I might resurrect into something someday. I was telling a friend that I'd much rather have had my wallet stolen than have this happen, because at least I can accurately identify every item in my wallet. I have no idea what-all I lost on that computer. She said it's much more like having your house burn down, and I think she's exactly right. Buy those flash drives, folks. Jeezopete.
So now I need to figure out what I'm going to do next and what lesson to take from all this. NYAB thinks I'm insane for trying to divine messages from the universe, but I have to wonder: Is this the universe telling me I shouldn't be a writer? Is it dispensation? There's a part of me that would love to think this was a sign telling me it's OK to say "Yeah, fuck this noise. I'm going to use my precious personal hours pulling weeds in the flowerbed instead." But it feels so much like quitting, and that bothers me. Maybe it's just a slap to the head reminding me that my kid isn't the only disorganized dumbass in the family and maybe I need to fix my own self as much as I need to kick him to fix himself? ("Or maybe," I can imagine NYAB saying with exasperation, "it's just that your computer died. That sucks, but it does happen. No deeper meaning necessary; events do simply occur. Get over it.") Hmm.
There are two bright spots in all this.
1: I lost six pounds this week, and I'm not as unhappy about deprivation as I was. This is especially noteworthy given my proclivity to stress-eat. I don't know that I'll ever manage to alter that behavior to "stress starve" or "stress exercise" although I can certainly see how I'd benefit from either of those as far as the scale is concerned.
2: We have conquered the pill thing. The kid gulps them down like a pro now, almost as well as his dad, who takes more tablets and capsules than any non-senior citizen I know. I told the YP this just proves that he can do anything we ask as long as he doesn't psych himself out. I don't know how we'll apply this to other endeavors, but I'm definitely counting it as a beautifully positive milestone in a tremendously negative week.