That’s right folks, it’s been maybe a year since I last posted and I am way beyond slacking off in reading and writing. I’ve jumped ship and instead of swimming, I chose to drown. It’s the way I have felt for a good long time.
It’s been around a month since we moved to our new apartment, and although it’s been a crazy adventure with one thing after another, we’re in a much nicer place. I think that getting out of our previous apartment was just the change I needed.
Sometimes it feels like I’m making excuses saying that I needed something to kick me in the pants and get moving on my writing. I think change is a valid way to kick-starting yourself. A change of scenery, a change in your situation, there are so many things that can affect you and what you do. Hell for me it was a complete stranger! It took someone that did not know me at all for me to feel like I need to put down the Netflix and get myself to do something.
I’m not happy with my life. I’m doing work that I don’t want to do. I wake up and I just want to go back to sleep. I feel like I can’t read and I feel like I can’t write. Quite simply my situation is not ideal. Even my health is not ideal. It’s time to seriously make a change.
So here’s the change. My boyfriend now has his room for his office and I have the living room to myself and my guinea pigs. I get to decide exactly how I want everything to be set up. I even have a fireplace for those cold nights, a balcony, and a tree with long hanging branches to entice my imagination. There’s even a little hummingbird that stops by now and then to squeak or chirp at me. Not quite sure how to describe the sounds they make. Perhaps there will be pictures soon.
It’s not exactly what I wanted, but at the moment I do have my own space. I have the chance to let my mind settle and be comfortable enough to let things flow like they used to.
I was reading a blog recently, and the writer was telling about her recent experience staying in this tiny house in Virginia. You guys should check it out sometime, I highly recommend it. It reminded me of what I always say, everyone needs a place of their own to write. Everyone needs a place to go and dedicate time to their craft and create. As I was reading about her getaway, I felt such a strong longing to have that kind of luxury. I would love to be able to get away to do revisions, to create, to just unpack everything in my head and be able to sort through it. It is my dream to spend my day reading and writing while getting paid to do it. I can’t think of anything that would make me happier.
BTW, here’s the link to the blog I was talking about, go check it out.
A Virginia Weekend to Write
With that, I would like to say to my friends and my fellow creators, I thank you for sticking around and sticking by me. I hope that you’ll continue to support me as I try to pull myself out of this weird limbo and get to where I want to go.
In the meantime, here is something I was dabbling with one day at work when we had some downtime. Something of which we seem to have a great deal of late, and it is driving me nuts. It’s not my usual word limit, but we can break the rules now and then.
It was rare for him to show up to one of these gatherings. Usually, he stuck his nose up at these types of things. They were always pitiful, people mourning or pretending to mourn. He snorted softly and took a sip of his cold coffee.
They were never thinking of the people they lost, they were only thinking of themselves. Well most of them anyway.
Many of them were looking for something to fill the void, if only for a little while. Humans are such selfish creatures.“Did you lose someone in the crash?”
He startled at the question. A small woman with gaunt eyes had wandered over to him. She placed her hand on his arm, but he could hardly feel it. Her eyes were heavy-lidded as if she were half-asleep. If she hadn’t spoken to him, he would have thought maybe she was sleepwalking. The sweater she wore drowned her tiny frame and looked more as if it belonged to a man. He stood there a moment, taking in the despair that seemed to seep from every pore of this woman. She peered up at him with eyes that looked as if she was searching for something in him that she would never find.
“You could say that.”
100 Words A Story 