Here’s what I’ve not been doing lately: writing. I, for the first time in a few years, have been working too much, which means I now have money to go away for a weekend and entertain a guest, things that have also kept me busy in the last month. But this also means that most other nights, I struggle to stay awake past 10 for the sole purpose of not wanting to waste valuable hours when I’m not at work.
Which has lead to being disgruntled about working too much and thoughts about how I can do less for more pay. New spare moments are now spent thinking about jobs I can apply for and making lists of how to boost my careers—my journalism career that I’ve neglected for a bit, the author career I keep hoping to have, and my teaching career so I can one day work anywhere in the world (ahem Hawaii or from a South American bungalow) and be that famous journalist/author too. But usually these lists are comprised of things to distract me from writing, like donating the bag of clothes still sitting in the corner of my room and buying lemonade for the emergency vodka cocktail I’ll need later in the week.
Which explains why I haven’t blogged or written anything new, or even old, in the last month. Obviously, not writing makes me feel unbalanced—I know if I pushed the lists aside and wrote something, anything, I’d feel better. But here’s the weird thing about not writing: it makes me want to write even less. The thought of starting something new is daunting. It’s like going out on a date with a guy that’s kinda cute and not a total loser, i.e. doing something reasonable. You know that if you go, you may start to get invested and the thought of putting energy into something again is terrifying and time consuming and emotionally draining. You start to visualize the rough patches you’ll hit. You may want to give up. But you already invested! Do you keep on going, struggle to untangle the mess that’s already in place, or let go? And c’mon, when have you ever learned when to let go?
In other words, it’s a worthless mindfuck. Somehow you forget that you can walk away if this first date/draft sucks. You forget that the new part is the best part. You’re going in unattached and heading into something uncharted. You can be messy and random and wrong. Dig into things you really shouldn’t because you can shut your eyes, ears, legs, laptop and walk away.
Alright, I think I’ve psyched myself up. Maybe.