I skipped yoga and a walk this morning; I was SORE from the fall yesterday and the though of moving around with my skinned knee made me whine this morning, so no. I’m gonna go walk around Target for a while later, taking it easy.
I did a selfie practice video from David Suh (per my brother Andy’s recommendation) and it was not only not miserable, but kind of fun. I’m still trying to decide whether to share any of them. Probably, but not sure which.
I worked on some practical life things this morning and almost had a panic attack about a couple of really minor things. Part of the issue with taking care of myself may be PTSD-based. I don’t have a strong connection with my gut instincts because I got punished/brainwashed into feeling like competence was dangerous. I set a limit for how many things I would do, identified a reward for doing them, and imagined someone praising me for getting them done (Marla Bell!). It was more stressful getting these things done than it was taking selfies–which surprised me. But they’re done.
Story stuff: yesterday I ran through the scene with the first two villains; right before the end of the scene, I realized the POV character knew at least one of them was a villain and the second was as probably one as well and oh shit he’d probably fucked up on something; then a third one came in.
The whole scene was so low-key and friendly that when my POV was like, “Oh shit I shouldn’t have done that because they’re villains,” I went, “YOU KNEW?!? THE WHOLE TIME?!?”
The characters in this story reaaaally don’t hold back. I want to save plot points for later. They’re like, “I will reveal your plot point and will use it to increase tension SHIT SHIT SHIT I HAVE REGRETS.”–it feels like finding out that Vader is Luke’s father in the first 20 minutes of Star Wars. I’m more used to writing things with a slow build in tension, then releasing the plot like a Rube Goldberg machine in the climax. I’m okay with it. It’s just weird.