I had to move an alarming amount of stuff to this week's "to do" folder. In fact, I just renamed it with this week's date and added the new things. I transcribed my notes into Notepad++.TW, if you're reading this, MWS, thank you for the hot tip on that, great program, loving it completely. It keeps surprising me with little things, and the lines are numbered! I can write code in it! I can decipher code in it! You always turn me on to the coolest software. Thank you for that.
My grocery list was nixed because I was a smart ass and hurt Doc's feelings. So, I have mozzarella cheese sticks for this week. And pop-tarts and Lucky Charms. I apologized to Doc and made up with him, but the grocery window on the week is closed, so, next week I will make spaghetti bolognese and broccoli cheddar soup and more guac, and nachos. Oh, I also have the stuff for chili cheese dogs. So it's not ALL cheese sticks for the week. I really have to watch my snark more carefully.
The poem I wrote got some traction on Twitter the night it was written, but I got absolutely no feedback from it. So, as usual, I'm going to assume it sucked. The nice thing about a purely confessional piece like that, it is endlessly revisable.
An award-winning, insanely popular on youtube, media composer has started following me on Twitter. He follows some 247k, so it isn't a personal invitation into his world, but it was a cool rush.
I've also made a contact with a "beat maker" on Twitter. I'm going to spend an hour listening to his posted stuff later and assessing if any of it is right for any of my poetry. I have no idea what to expect. I know nothing about him or his background or interests. All I know is "beats." This will be fun. When I pinned the post about looking for "specially talented" musicians and DJ's to the top of my Twitter profile, I expected to be auditioning for them, not the other way around. So, ego boost.
Of course, there is a down side. Impostor Syndrome. Every time something I would like to happen, but would never expect it to, happens, I get this wave of "what if they find out I'm . . ." But there's nothing secret for anyone to find out. I'm an open book. So there really is nothing for me to fear. As long as I keep working hard, I'll be fine. I am what I present myself as. Just because I have been doing a bit of dancing around the "fake it until you make it" dogma, doesn't mean that I was faking myself, I was just faking my popularity. Acting bigger than I was. Turns out a little of that can work in your favor. Emphasis on "a little."