Guilt x 3 To The Power of Tailgating
Poor husband. I confess I have been in a bit of a mood as of late. I can't seem to shake it. I have increased the volume on my stereo in hopes that the songs will block the negative thoughts from invading every crevice. I am angry at myself that I don't have profound ideas to write down. I don't have funny stories to record. Life is boring.
...I wake up and have to force myself to get on with it. I rush and rush and rush some more. I work. I try to avoid chocolate unsuccessfully. ~guilt~ I tell myself that I need the phenethylamines. I get home late. ~guilt~ I cook some food while the baby cries for me. We begin pleading with Strawberry to eat. Five more bites. Where did my brilliant little eater go? I might get a whole minute and half to zone out before I have to administer bath time. The bedtime rituals begin. On a good night I make it through all three stories before I crash. I wake up around 1:00 AM sometimes because the baby is crying. Husband is still awake watching TV and surfing on the laptop. I stumble to bed and leave him to clean the kitchen. ~guilt~…
Boring life equals boring posts equals anger at myself for not being able to propel my bitty blog, my square of web space into the immaculate promise land. Why, why is this so damn important to me? Why can't I be all too cool to desire readership? Because damn it I know what it takes to get people to return. Talent. It is the ability to churn out something interesting consistently. What I really want is not popularity. I wish for sparkly talent.
Maybe if my life wasn't so damn boring I would have better things to focus my attention on. Instead it all manifests into a funk that turns into this post that I don't want to post. I am the cranky woman driving around the mega city with her eyebrows wrinkled up, scowling and cussing at innocent bystanders.
Like the people who put "Baby on Board!" signs in their back window. My feeble mind wants to know if they are just so proud that they have a child that they feel the need to announce it to every onlooker. Or do they think that the power of their sign will alert the lackluster drivers and employ them to proceed with caution around their extra special cargo? On days like this, it makes me want to tailgate them.
9 Singing the blues:
I hear ya on the boring life thing. I've given my daughter a pin to poke me with because I'm constantly falling asleep from boredom.
And my neighbors put one of those Baby on Board signs in their car. It made me giggle. I wanted to applaud, Good for you for having a baby on board. Now take the sign down, it looks silly.
Blue sorry to hear you are in such a funk. The dreary weather does not help and yes chocolate is required to make it though the days.
I always wondered if those baby on board signs really helped or just enraged people.
I'm frustrated by having nothing much to say lately. Hopefully it's just the lack of sun.
We need a night out...
I, too, am not immune to the desires to have a readership. But what does it say about me that I do write almost every day and my readership is at the same plateau it's been at for six months? It's not really even a plateau. More like a bench I've been standing on for awhile.
Talent. That fickle and flitting Goddess of Torment that she is. Bitch. Sometimes it makes me want to tailgate, too.
But we are all harder on ourselves than we need to be. I think you're talented (and I know this post isn't a backhanded way to get people to tell you you're wrong about your talent, so no guilt or defensiveness, mmm-kay?) and smart and you have two of the prettiest children I've ever seen.
And by the way, I liked this post. It was like glimpsing a person with a pretty smile but slightly crooked teeth, someone who doesn't want to smile to hide the teeth not knowing the smile transforms their face, and the crooked teeth are just the perfect flaw to make the rest of the perfection that is the face seem that much better. You should smile more often.
Man, do I hear you. I feel like I (and my poor wee blog) just need something. A change, a break, some excitement, some spark of anything. I'd love to be writing posts that make me proud, that I know I put my heart and mind into wholly and that I think read well, but I don't have the time and energy these days. I say something will come our way some day soon, Blue. We've got it coming, right?
that sign always bothers me, too.
p.s. keep it together, i'm sure u r doing great!
Your blog about having nothing to blog about is actually a great post. It's honest, connects with the reader, and it makes me feel less silly for contemplating posting a picture of my dog-hair-covered Swiffer. I am clearly looking for material too.
(you should see the Swiffer though - I could knit a sweater from it, daily!)
Does it help if I mention that this is a really good post? And that I've been trying to load up your blog for several days now and this was the first time it worked?
I have been suffering much of the same. It is as though the writing well has running low and I live in fear of going to it each day thinking it will finally be bone dry.
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