Thursday, January 15, 2009

A Pothole of Sorts

January 15, 2008

For some reason, I find myself in a rut. I am obsessing over the things I am not. And the things that I am? Well, they're contributing to the things I am not.

Is it my job, duties or obligations? Is it the economy? Is it winter, the weather or lack of time? Is it because of my self-inflicted non-shop therapy? Is it the PMS Avenger? Who knows. It's not each part. It's the sum of all the parts.

Why am I writing this? Or worse yet, publishing it openly? Am I looking for a condolence or two? Am I fishing for help? Am I hunting for attention? Am I trying to see how many question marks I can get into one post? Nope, nada, nit, no way, never.

Believe it or not, writing this junk makes me feel better.

One might argue that these types of thoughts and feelings are best documented in lined and bound books cleverly coined journals. But truthfully, those wretched things scare me senseless. First, they have this secret undisclosable nature about them - the writer (aka me) tends to throw out necessary censorship. Second, no one hears you. Which I already get a lot of (being a windowless basement employee, mom and wife.)

Thoughts become words. Words eventually become paragraphs. Paragraphs provide clarity. Nothing is solved or fixed, but worries are magically aligned.

Here, on my blog, I am heard. And no one talks back.

**Comments don't count as "talking back" because I have the ultimate power of deletion.


The McMillans said...

A holepot? I am inspired by all the things you are, truly. :)

Julia said...

So that book you lent me, I FINALLY finished it and need to give it back to you. But I meant what I said about the book reminding me of you. You have a lot of inspiring and wonderful qualities. You really are one of the most genuine and thoughtful people I have ever met. I hope you know that about yourself.

Mandee said...

this is why I think everyone should have a blog.

and just so you know... you are one of my favorite people.

Vera said...

Here's the thing---You are worrying about what you aren't. Who gives a damn? Why do you have to BE something? Who is keeping track of what you are or aren't? Santa? Jesus? Your friends?
Let me give you a list of things you aren't:
-Eileen Wuonos-whore and serial killer
-Leona Helnsley-queen of mean
-Marie Antonette-let them eat cake
-Imelda Marcos-shoe lover (hmmmm)
-Yoko Ono-bad singer

Now these women are Something! Would you like to be on a list like this? Will you aspire to be on this list?

If you don't stop worring about stuff like this, you will never get as old as me...and still live in a place without padded walls.

The greatest happiness of life it the conviction that we are loved -- loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.
Victor Hugo

Buddy the Elf said...

This is why I love your blog. None of this "my life is so perfect, look at how beautiful my kids are, things couldn't be better" Reading those kind of blogs make me depressed. Not that I'm glad your feeling down, but I'm glad that you are honest about it and aren't afraid to share. It makes the rest of us feel normal. Hope the weekend turns things around for you!

Staci said...

Go Vera!

My sister-in-law is always complaining that she never does anything--that she is just a meaningless speck on this floating island called earth. But I wouldn't change her for the world because she is the first to send greetings and unexpected presents and never forgets a birthday and always knows just what to say. So what if she doesn't work, and ski, and run marathons, and crochet, and cook. I love who she is -- although un-classifiable.

I agree with Vera . . . I'm tired of trying to BE something because most of the time I am just a bump on a log.

The petulant ninny said...

Sorry to be off topic, but how do I get in on this PMS Adventure?