Today, I sat down intent to write an entry. I had a few different things I wanted to blog about, but when I sat down and began typing it all ran together in a manner similar to discount buffet food all piled on one plate. None of it tasted good, so to speak, and it all seemed at least second or third rate. Not that anything or everything I crank out of here is first rate, but when I reread something and it automatically sounds like crap to me, I hit the Save button and save it for a day when I can attempt to make a mountain out of a molehill.
The truth is my life is busy lately. Really, it’s busy all of the time.
A busy life is nothing new to any of you. We’re all often being pulled in a blunder of directions. But the problem is that sometimes the pulling from multiple, distant directions becomes so strong, so rapid that while we desperately need to fall over from exhaustion and strife, we remain standing. Wobbling, but standing.
That’s me today, and that’s me lately.
Standing but wobbling. Slightly dizzy, yet still able to make out the goals in sight. An obvious suggestion to the madness is to eliminate some of projects in my life that are not necessary. One might argue that I should take a blog break.
But the thing is, what started out as a personal diary for me has now become a third arm. It’s just a functioning part of me. And I’m okay with that. While writing this, I stopped for a moment, preparing myself to analogize various parts of my blog with my hand, but I don’t even know how to do that right now. All I know is that I would equate a recent influx of email filled with either hateful words or unsolicited advice to my middle finger waving rapidly in the air. That is one relationship that is partially visible.
At some point, being bogged down a bajillion things is ridiculous. When I’ve lost my car keys for the fourth time of the day and find myself dropping the f-bomb like I’m getting paid for it, well, that’s when I usually call it a day. I used to handle stress a lot differently.
When I was in middle school, one of my best friends and I spent massive amounts of time writing really catty, yet hilarious poems about whatever or whomever was pissing us off. As angsty preteens, we had at least a 5-subject notebook full-until my mom confiscated it. Back then, finding words to rhyme with whore in order to complete a stanza usually took up a lot of my time. I wish I had time to write angst-filled poetry right now. Not that I would, but having the option would be nice.
If possible, I would probably massacre 80’s Lady with adjectives in a beautiful poem dedicated to the new level of idiot status she has managed to achieve. As of today, she is officially the bane of my existence.
In the next few weeks (when my time is once again plentiful) you can look forward to these things,
- An update about 80’s Lady latest antics
- A semi-new design
- Other things I haven’t thought of yet, but decided a third bullet would look nice and added it for fun.
Anything making you crazy or busy? An insane relative? A demanding job? Your next door neighbor that tends to go out to get the newspaper naked?
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