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Keegan G. demonstrating proper laptop use. |
Several years ago, we had a writer who was going through a particularly rough patch of writer's block. I'm sure it was amplified by all of the other stuff happening in his life and also some medication he was on. But it was truly like he could not remember how to write. Our copy director pulled out samples of his work and pointed out the brilliant, snappy copy. "See? You did this! You can do this again!" He nodded weakly, crept back into his office, shut the door and I think took a nap.
I think of him often - and how that must have felt.
Have I been going through a rough patch of writer's block, you ask? I suppose. In a way. I think it's been more about not really knowing how to articulate what's going on my head. Oh - and that makes me think of seldom-quiet Midori, our bubbly and fun exchange student from a few years ago. I commented one day that she was awfully quiet and she said, "Oh! I'm noisy in my head!" And soon it all came spilling out.
The life I've been living the past several weeks just hasn't seemed blog-worthy. I drag myself to work in the morning. Pretend to write all day, often working through lunch or lunching at my desk while staring into space. Drag myself home - my brain and soul depleted. Fill the hole with inspirational or fluffy reading, Netflix or sleep. Do it over the next day. Yoga on Wednesdays. Feel guilty for not using my Y membership but not wanting to admit defeat and cancel it. The occasional dinner with Share and Jake or friends. Birthday parties and hockey games. Youth group. Church.
I remind myself to count my blessings. To be thankful for employment even though what I'm doing is not quite what I think I'm meant to do. I knew I needed to leave my last job and I did it. I've stretched waayyyyy beyond my comfort zone. I'm thankful my new job allows (and encourages) working at home when the roads are treacherous. I'm awed and amazed at the technology and talent that surround me. I'm thankful for neighbors who snow-blow my driveway and sidewalk. And that I realized in time the furnace exhaust was covered and was able to dig it out before dying of asphyxiation and frostbite ... for the daughter who continues to amaze me with her wisdom and grace ... for family and friends ...
I guess the point is I'm living a life - my life - moving from one day to the next, while trying to look beyond my own grumpy self and remembering to count my blessings. Some days it's more of a struggle than others. Some days I fail completely and vow to start over the next day. Many days I just want to pull up my covers and stay in bed.
Like today. I spent the night in Lizz's room again and it's just so cozy!
I awoke to the sound of Claudette shredding a patch of carpet in the upstairs hallway and then barfing. In a secret spot somewhere. I cannot find where she did it. Lovely.
My out-of-town Christmas gifts are
still sitting in bags, needing to be wrapped and boxed and shipped. Why is this so hard for me?
Gotta work on taxes and the FAFSA thing. Ick.
Maybe if I work for a bit I can feel better about going to a movie later with friends. And I have a fun diversion to look forward to tomorrow, too ... I started going to a French conversation gathering at the university to practice my French on the occasional Sunday afternoon. I should brush up on my vocabulary and verb conjugations so I can do more than mutter, "Oui! D'accord! Zoot alors!"
I brought homework home, too, but maybe I can just push that to tomorrow ... yes, I'm sure I can do that ...
The house is still decorated for Christmas. This might be a good weekend to pack up the dusty decorations. Or I could hide upstairs and read. Because I ordered several books with my B&N gift cards and the box arrived the other day so I have plenty of material to fill my "spare" time (and to tempt my procrastination tendencies):
- The new Pioneer Woman book - Black Heels to Tractor Wheels (done - passed on to Kay)
- Little Bee (loved the cover and the intriguing "don't tell your friends" plea on the back)
- An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination - because I heard the author interviewed on NPR and I loved the title and part of the story takes place in France
- The View from Mount Joy - pure brain candy
- Half Broke Horses - so I can read the rest of Jeannette Walls' (The Glass Castle) story
- My Life in France - because it was cheap and I wanted my own copy (having read it a few months ago)
Oh me oh my. I'm sure I need a catitude adjustment. My dear friend MBG sent the pic of her cat, Keegan, the other day and it gave me a chuckle and I knew I had to borrow it. I'm sure she won't mind.