Sunday, December 28, 2014

Bah Humbug

I'm in a foul mood, and have been since Tuesday. On the one hand, professionally, I am on top of the world. I'm getting a great new office space and it's bigger and better than anything I could have hoped for. I am truly excited for this, and I get happy butterflies thinking about it, and talking about it apparently makes me glowy. 

That doesn't change the fact that this time of year always bums me out a bunch. I get wonderful tokens of appreciation from people that I flutter in and out of their lives that makes my heart smile, but to the people that hold the most real estate in my heart, I get their leftovers. I don't do things so people will do things for me, that is a gross way to live life. That doesn't change the fact that every time I give someone a gift that I put a little bit of myself into, and in return I get their scraps nice enough to pass off as gifts, that it stabs me deep inside. 

It goes back to something I mentioned a couple of posts ago, if I am constantly pouring myself out, but there's nothing to refill me, eventually there will be nothing left but a shell. 

Luckily my birthday is towards the end of the year, as well as these heart-wrenching holidays, so I only have to feel like this all at once for a couple of months. Come the end of January/beginning of Febuary I will have gotten over these sad pity me feels, just in time for me to start planning birthday gifts for the ones I love. 

Wash, rinse, repeat. 

(Next post, I'll word vomit some happy on you)

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

The Other Kind of Block....

A handful of posts back I mentioned a brief stent of writer's block where no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't figure out how to get the words out of my brain so I got stalled. That is no longer the case, but I currently am dealing with the exact opposite problem; too many ideas.

I want to write about how it was starting my business, and I want to write about my coffee obsession, I want to write about toxic relationships and how strong people can still find themselves in bad relationships. I want to successfully write a fluff piece based on a prompt. I want to work on my side project and push through that because it's important. I recently realized why I dislike the holidays and that would make a FANTASTIC blog post if I could calm myself down. I want to write about feeling like a walking life lesson, and how that kinda sucks sometimes.

That little "paragraph" (sorry English majors) is a small sample of some of the things in different parts of progress that I'm currently working on. With the exception of my project each of those things are ::mostly:: done, or could be within an hour (plus an editor's eyes) if I could just pick one.

Wanna know a secret?

I'm scared.

Writing scares me. I love it, I feel like I have potential to do something with all the words swirling around my brain, and I want so badly to write something meaningful that changes someone's life for the positive. BUT. What happens if I succeed and then never have another thought worth sharing again? Or, what if I'm wrong and I'm just some foolish gal sharing her crazy anonymously through the internet, just another red dot on a map somewhere? If I can stop myself before I succeed then it all stays a what if, but keeping consistent, and going after what I really want means there's a chance for it to go either way. It could be amazing, or it could be a disaster.

Wanna know another secret?

"If I can stop myself before I succeed then it all stays a what if, but keeping consistent, and going after what I really want means there's a chance for it to go either way. It could be amazing, or it could be a disaster. " Doesn't just apply to my writing. I have been a huge coward in a lot of ways in my life, and I hate it so much. This is my MO, right here: want something, go for it, get a taste of success, get scared, self sabotage, fail, throw small pity party over losing something I never really had. I am trying so hard right now not to turn and run away from the things I want, and instead I'm at least standing facing my wants, sometimes taking steps forward.. No steps backwards at least, but still.

I am a grown woman facing a lot of hopes and goals and desires all at once. I am scared shitless. And trying really hard not to run away.

A Little Blasphemy as a Literal (and Figurative) Sign of Progress

 Hello there, it’s been a while, and in true returning from ghosting fashion, I am here to either share something vapid and meaningless, or ...