The night I shot myself in the foot.

There’s very few things that I have a personal level of frustration with, but one of them is being socially inept. Not that I speak without consequence, I think that’s charming. I’m talking about when I have to actually buckle down and explain something.

It’s easier for me to be cryptic and vague, because I have an incredibly difficult time explaining things that I really mean to say.

That’s getting in the way of these script meetings. I get angry that I have to talk, and it gets in the way. Explaining is frustration, then one thing leads to the other and I loose it. Get cranky, and want to choke a bitch.

It does feel like  a ridiculous barrier I have that I don’t want to get in the way, because it’s costing me greatly. At least I knw that this is something that will just come to pass. I hope it does soon, because I may find myself giving up on the writing.


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