The not-success yeti

Erik and I have both been having a very bleh day. Erik lay in bed this morning and complained about things, which he only ever does when he’s feeling really bleh, and that can only mean the feeling has been growing for a few days. I’ve been a little off for a few days, too. Just now I went into the bedroom, where Erik was ticking away at his laptop, and flopped down next to him.

ME: I’m feeling failure-y again.
ERIK: Why?
ME: Because… I’m not writing, I’m barely drawing, and I’m not selling anything in my shop.
ERIK: That’s not failure, that’s just not-success-yet.
ME: Thanks.
ERIK: No, I’m serious!
ME: So was I; I wasn’t being sarcastic.
ERIK: Failure would be if people left you comments about your shop screaming, “YOU SUCK” and “YOUR WORK IS TERRIBLE,” and you were shamed into shutting it down. Failure would be if you gave up writing and burned all your notebooks.
ME: Yes, yes, you’re right.

I thought about this for a minute, then flopped over again and continued whingeing.

ME: I’m feeling not-success-yet-y.
ME: That sounds like a monster!
ME: The not-success yeti!
ERIK gets up, to my utter amazement, and begins to wave his arms and do a dance.
ERIK: Not success yet! Not success yet!
ME: …
ME: Why does a yeti make you think of dancing? Aren’t yeti supposed to lurch around bellowing and roaring?
ERIK: No, they dance because people can’t see them. It’s like the Loch Ness Monster. It pops up, does a dance [he demonstrates], and one person goes, “DID YOU SEE THAT?!” and no one believes them because why would the monster be dancing?!

This is remarkably cheering. πŸ™‚