I try to write yet nothing seems right. The last few weeks have left me unable to find my voice. I would usually just wait it out and give myself time to “feel” the words again. The problem is that I itch to write; it’s like a burning need that I cannot fill. My brain aches with the words I cannot produce. Writer’s block sucks and my brain hurts.
Wise Words September 24, 2013
“When life is hard, you have to change.”
Wise words sang by a man who could not change. Knowing what needs to be done is not the same as doing it.
The Workweek September 16, 2013
I’m glad you’re through
It’ll be seven days
’til I have to see you.
You are often overlooked
You’re just day two
of a week that’s fully booked!
Famous for your hump
We are halfway home
When we pass that bump.
We call you Friday Eve,
The end is getting near
I can hardly believe!
You made it just in time
You are my favorite
so I’ll end this rhyme.
Cracks in the Veneer September 14, 2013
For days, weeks, and even (if I am lucky) months at a time, my life is shiny; covered with a beautiful glossy coat. Everything rolls along and falls into place as it should. Even the bumps in the road are handled with humor and navigated well. Good times are enjoyed, bad time are endured, and average times are sweet.
Then, for some unknown reason, the glossy veneer of my beautiful life begins to crack.
It always starts small. Something I forgot to do, and hubs mentions it. Or the boss mentions it. Or maybe no one mentions it, but I know and I feel it. It sours things just a wee bit, and the first tiny crack appears in the glossy veneer.
Even if I immediately take care of it, whatever caused the first crack haunts me. It reminds me of every other time I screwed up. It makes me feel like I am in over my head in this life; that sooner or later, I will be found out. I’m not good enough and everyone knows it. I am just living a lie.
So what is the difference? How is it that I can handle things so well for periods of time, then suddenly it all falls apart? I need to know, because I can feel the cracks creeping in, and things have been so good for a while now; I don’t want the darkness. I will fight it, but it always, always wins.
Embrace Your Weird September 8, 2013
We are all weird. Although we all start the same way, when Mr. Sperm meets and greets Ms. Egg, somewhere along the way we each develop in our own uniquely weird way.
As small children we have some weirdness that begins to show. Some, as toddlers, run around in full naked glory and refuse to put on clothing. Some eat weird food concoctions, or only eat one or two foods. Young children don’t mind being weird because they mostly only think of themselves. But soon, they grow up and become…TEENAGERS. Teenagers thrive on being the same as everyone else. Anything that makes them different must be hidden at all cost. Some people get stuck in this mindset and spend the rest of their lives hiding their weirdness and trying to live exactly like everyone else. They are the ones who will never fully develop their own hidden potentials because they are too busy trying to be normal.
Being weird is not a bad thing. In fact, I am here today to celebrate my own brand of weirdness. It is my weirdness that makes me who I am. My weirdness factor sets me apart from every other person living on my street or in my town. I am uniquely me, and proud of it!
Here are several weirdness factors about me:
1. When I am following directions, I visualize a birds-eye view of the area roads. I am good at finding my way around, but not good at telling someone else how to get there because no one understands my way of seeing it.
2. I hate, truly hate, shopping. I am a rare breed of woman who would never set foot in a store OF ANY KIND if I had a choice. I don’t like buying clothes, shoes, household items, gifts, groceries, or any other necessities of life. I do love online shopping for things, though. Why? Because I can find unique items that no one else will have.
3. I love singing in my car. I have a 30 minute drive to work and I spend most of the time singing at the top of my lungs. (I am not very good, but I don’t care!) I don’t look at other people or cars, so I could care less what they think. The other thing I do in my car is talk. To myself. Out loud. Sometimes very animated.
4. I am artistic just to be artistic. I create what I want to create. Most of my work is sitting in my studio in piles. I get people who ask me all the time to paint certain things, but that is not how I work. I stare at the canvas (or wood, or whatever) and let it tell me what it needs to be. Anything else is forced. The same is true of poems or stories I write. I cannot pre-plan; it becomes what it was meant to be.
5. I count colors. When sitting in a waiting room, or standing in line, I look around and see the different colors of all the people and objects. I then count the colors that touch one another. No color can be repeated. This is a game I started as a young child when I had trouble falling asleep at night. It soothes me, even now.
These are only a few of the many, many ways I am weird. How are you weird? What makes you a wonderfully flawed and beautiful human? Embrace your own weirdness, and share with me!