Life

Professional Coffee Rainstorm Dog Word Mangler

It’s been a good ten days since I took the pressure off. The constant narrative of “I should be writing, I should be writing”, once gone, is such a relief.

I found myself in a better mood, more relaxed, able to laugh more. I even enjoyed a movie or two. And then…

The voice started again. How would I describe this room, that person? Tighten it up and make it concise?

I read a book. Listened to an audiobook, tried to tease apart the details in Sherlock Holmes (which I listen to every night as a lullaby).

I read over my old writings. They’re the same as now – not that good, but with some insights and humorous parts, but too self absorbed for an audience. I really entertain myself, but others? Not really. There’s a lot of skill that goes in to that, and I haven’t learned it.

For now, I love words, books, the escapism and the relatable humor. But I also love dogs, rainstorms, going for a run and coffee. Doesn’t mean I’m going to make a career out of it.

I really do have to find my Next.

Life

Me = ????

My defining inner dialogue (since I was about 15) was that I wanted to be a writer. I may have been wrong.
And that, dear friends, is like walking around nekkid. 

It was my dream job, but I never chased it – just mused about it and got frustrated. Everything was holding me back! I couldn’t be a writer because because because. 

The last few days I’ve been paying attention to how I structured my life, what I enjoy doing, what I make time for, and writing isn’t one of them. 

Maybe I’ve been wrong for 30 years. 

So, my next experiment is to remove it from my head. Not a writer. Writing a novel/movie/kids book is not a goal of mine. That leaves a huge void, and I need to figure out what to fill it up with.  

Kind of like an elimination diet, but in a mid-life crisis sort of way.

Habits, Life, Self help

Hello Me, It’s Me.

It’s tough watching your friends beat themselves up with their shoulds and shouldn’ts, running the circular track of their patterns.

I’m sure I do it to. I’m trying to stop it, so here I am.

“I’m grocery shopping by myself on a Saturday night,” one complained. “It’s so pathetic.”

How is it pathetic, I think. It’s just grocery shopping. Who cares when it is? Do you know how many moms would love the opportunity to shop sans kids on any night?

But it means something to her, symbolically. There is a dialogue going on in her head that only makes sense to her; entire conversations on how lame her life is. 

For some reason it struck me. I guess because it seemed ridiculous to me, so what do I say to myself that, if said out loud to others, would seem just as pointless?

What am I telling myself that keeps me running the same loop? And what’s the payoff? If I keep doing the same things, I must get some type of benefit. I think it’s time to really start listening to my inner-me-chatter. I think maybe it’s time for that bitch to go.