December 31, 2014

I sit here with a shot glass of single malt, my family sitting not 10 feet away enjoying my favorite of all shows, Dr Who, and it being New Year's Eve.  I have been counting down to the day when I would start this again. This being....well, writing. Sharing. Creating. Unburdening. Unloading. Unfolding. Stretching out. I honestly thought I wouldn't start until tomorrow, but suddenly that seemed too cliche. Too forced. Too expected.

So.

Here I am.

What now?

What do I expect to happen? What am I hoping for?  What do I want?



I don't know, exactly. But having been seeming hounded by blurbs on the internet:

and 

I can't help but think I am looking for an excuse or else the world is waiting.

Again.

For what?

Alright, enough of the drama.  I want to write. I want to create. I have always admitted that my most favorite and successful crafting projects have involved nothing but an hour of my time from set up to tear down and what is more perfect that a writing project.  However, even now, right this second, I can feel the desire to trash this and walk away, start again some day, or maybe never, begin to hound me.  I have a problem with commitment and carry through. I have lost my string of thought. I can't remember the fabulous lead in that I thought up last night laying in bed, preparing for New Year's Day, when I would wake up an hour earlier than every one else, make my cup of instant coffee (can't even wait for a proper brew, time is an issue apparently) and sit down and empty my prolific brain on a sheet of screen, in preparation of a brand new day. 

Weird. Way too planned out and organized for me.

But yet, look! I'm writing! I'm not just thinking about it but doing it. What a huge step for me. Yay me! (pat on the back)

It is easy. And hard. There is a lot of fear in committing to a plan. And to that, I have failed to make one. Why make a plan that I am fully willing to break at the first sense of inconvenience? I know I will. It is what I do. Things come calling. Dog hair MUST be vacuumed. Dishes must be done.  Oh shit! There is still laundry in the washer....

Okay, laundry is in the dryer, the dog is fed, I refilled the cracker bowl and restocked my snack plate....aaaand I had to force myself to sit back down. So I assume I am doing okay. I made it back. I am sticking to this writing thing. 

Small victories.