A friend suggested that I try this blogging thing.
I’ve definitely thought about it. Once upon a time, I was going to be a famous author, living in a big house, sitting in front of a computer and making my living doing what I love.
Life happened. The most I write now are grocery lists, my signature on school papers, and lengthy Facebook posts.
I miss the excitement of it though, the thrill of positive feedback on my work, and losing myself in my own words. I haven’t really written since high school. A poem here and there, a short story. . . But that’s even tapered off since I had my youngest.
So I’m going to give this a shot, see if it helps that writers itch that I have. From what I understand, blogging is generally nonfiction writing about something you know about. I know about raising children, working full time, and rolling with the punches life throws at you. I do feel like someone somewhere already has this story down pat and tells it better than I can. We’ll see.
Tomorrow is going to be good for writing material. My youngest, who just turned 4, has his well check at 745am. What in the hell possessed me to make an appointment that God awful early in the morning is beyond me, but I did and I need to suck it up and not reschedule it because I don’t want to get up at 5am. After that I need to make my way to the local social security office to figure out why their phone system is a piece of shit and won’t accept the monthly income that I’m required to call in each month for my brother. Then I need to go to my brothers, an hour and a half drive from where I live, to have him sign a piece of paper. It’s going to be a long day. I truly love my hectic crazy life. I wouldn’t change it for anything. But Lord knows I would really enjoy a day of reading on the couch!
For now, my children are up way too late, and I need to get them in bed. So I can shower and get myself to bed. So I can be good and awake for the hecticness. Here’s to tomorrow.