The little girl had some serious stomachache last night. Had to get up and let her out twice. ONe at 2 and again at 6. Went to sleep at 12. I don’t know what’s going on with her! We found some poop and pee in the basement that was a couple days old and had to clean up last night because brother stepped in the poop and I on the pee. Gable had no problems and he’s the one with the sensitive stomach. Bah.
I did, however, find out that they both like to be sung to. I spent about 30 minutes last night serenading them. Yes, they do like it because if they don’t they start groaning or sighing and flopping around, but they lay still and closed their eyes like it was a lullaby. Felt good, to sing to them too and have an enjoyable audience. Haven’t used the vocal muscles in a while and I’m terribly rusty…I used to sing in church all the time and especially in the shower. These days it’s in the car only when I’m alone and even then sometimes I catch myself lip syncing. Why?
I’ve been reading a love manga at night which I was hooked to. It isn’t finished (graaah) even though there are no more updates (addiction is why I don’t read manga). It’s amazing and inspiring how much time each mangaka and illustrator spends on each manga. Sigh. When I was younger I greatly enjoyed books. I still do, but I find myself reading them less and really, having access to less since I never visit the library anymore. At the time, I wanted to write a novel. In ways it’s still there inside me, Project Aowam, but it’s ongoing and I don’t think I’ll ever finish it. When manga and comics started becoming big in my life, that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to combine that with my love of writing and idea stream. At the time I drew decently enough in my own opinion. I started several and when I look back on it, I’m proud, but I realize that it’s only mediocre and so time consuming that I’ll never finish. Then came webcomics. Same story. I started and still have my own. It’s really not very impressive and as a recent relationship hopeful told me, “the art is not very good, but the content is.” I appreciate the honesty, but it was a blow nonetheless. It made me sad.
Am I destined to always be just mediocre? I know that I value being about average on many skill sets over mastering a singular subject matter, but it really does convey a sense of depression when I start to think about it. I’ll never be excellent, just good. Isn’t there anything I’m superb at? All schooling I’ve ever undertaken, I’ve prided myself on trying as hard as possible to ace it, and while I end up doing very well, someone always does better. It doesn’t really bother me too much because I just want to be happy, but again, I can only be good. Same with violin. Same with piano.
At least failing at relationships allows me to stray from average in something, haha.
OH I know what I’m great at: complaining! Oh wait. Plenty of people are better than me at that.