Resolution: Overcoming Writer's Self-Consciousness

Sorry if I was kind of a downer in my last post. I am. But I don’t mean to be.

I mentioned that I may be in the beginning stages of working on my New Year’s Resolutions. I used to think it was too stressful to make resolutions. (If you click on this link… wow, get a load of my baloney!) How many people are actually successful at following through? I’m willing to bet not that many.

But, hey! I’m one of those. I’m normal. See? Just like the rest of you.

Last year and this year have been more difficult than usual to get through, though. So in a huge effort to make myself a happy person again, I’m going to take the plunge… er, at the very least, make a list. Simple stuff. You know?

I mentioned writing letters to various folks throughout the year to let them know how much they’re appreciated. I’ve always enjoyed the hand-written letter in the mail – but as we all know, those are very few nowadays. Now I look forward to my sister’s emails at work. They make me smile. I told her that one of these days, I’m going to go through them all (yes, I’ve saved them all) and publish a book – even if it’s just for us.

I’ve been thinking of a few other items that I could add to my list of resolutions for 2013. I like writing (duh!), so I want to keep up with my blogs. Doesn’t mean I will; but I definitely want to. I also want to not be embarrassed to mention my blogs. Recently, in the Verizon store, when the rep was trying to persuade me with flattery into buying up and getting a smart phone (sorry! My three year old slider is still going strong!), I told him that I really don’t need access to the internet and email and such when I’m not at work or home. I’m not in a business that requires me to travel or stay in contact when I’m not there; and even though, yes, I have four kids, they sure don’t want me to email them at all hours so I know that they are tucked safely into bed. But I did mention that I write. Why I’ll never know. But I did. He perked up, thinking he had me now.

                “Oh? What do you write?”

                “I have a blog” (said with much insecurity).

                “What is your blog about?”

At this point, I know my face is red and I’m glistening. Ok, sweating. “Ooh… just stuff.”

Geez! What is wrong with me? I know that my blog – my topics – wouldn’t typically interest the average Joe, but why do I have such a hard time the self-consciousness?

I’ve always been like this. I’ll blame my parents. Sounds fair.

So here’s what I’m going to do, or try to do: I’m going to do my best to keep up with my blog, and pushing my blog. And I’m going to practice talking about it. Which means, for me, that I’ll probably need to kind of write myself a script so that I can rehearse and feel comfortable with what I’m saying, you know, pick the right words and such.

I even feel uncomfortable saying I’m going to get comfortable with this. Maybe I should coordinate one of the Wednesday night groups for people like me. (Side note: If “Wednesday night group” is synonymous with something strange or nasty I don’t know about, say… Trekkies Anon – then I’m really sorry.) We could all practice our mantra: I write and I’m good at it. I write and I’m good at it. I write and I’m good at it….

I read one blog in particular that I really enjoy where the writer has, more than once, mentioned that he interviews himself in his head. That’s sounds like an interesting approach. I should try something similar. Or… you could leave me comments and feel free to pop a question in here or there. Keep it clean, though.

I write and I’m good at it.

I write and I’m good at it…

Feeling a little better already.

Post-Partum Christmas Blues

Now that Christmas is over you'd think I would relax a bit. But no.

Christmas was the usual (usual as of the last few years) stress of shopping with almost no money. Baking goodies with almost no money. Putting gas in my car so I can get to the family gatherings - with almost no money.

I know. I know. Christmas isn't about all of this. Well, it's kinda about family - but you know what I'm saying. I know Christmas is supposed to be a happy time as it is the birth of our Lord - not the amount of presents we give or receive; not about how many cookies we baked and frosted and put into pretty tins to give away...

But it's still very disheartening to know that your kids are asking what their limit is in response to you asking them for Christmas gift ideas. It's sickening to see the pictures on Facebook of other families with stacks and stacks of gifts under their trees, and they're bragging about how much they spent on their kids or how big their new diamond earrings are, or their family trip to Disney Land.

It's not that I'm jealous. Really. It's just depressing that I can't do that for my kids. I can't remember the last time we went on a real family vacation. Well, actually I can remember - but that's another topic that would really just add to the depression - and anger.

I want my kids to be happy. And they are for the most part. But they sure don't deserve to grow up being such deprived human beings. While I am aware that we do have many things that other families don't have, I am also very aware that it's darker in the house, and cooler in the house, and quieter in the house due to no cable television and all of us putting forth a gallant effort in trying to conserve electricity and natural gas. I've even gone so far as to make my own laundry detergent (which smells very nice!).

And now that Christmas is over, it's time to start the New Year's Resolutions. This is something I don't usually partake in. It's always been kind of stressful for me to make a list and then know that I didn't follow through on anything. But this year, I'm going to have an honest go at it.

There are a lot of ways I could better my life. And I believe that one of the best ways to feel less depressed (dare I say 'happy'? Nah, maybe just 'satisfied'.) is to help others feel better about themselves. Now really, I'm not going to attempt any huge feat. What I'm suggesting is:

Writing Letters

Now keep in mind that this is but one of the items on my New Year's Resolutions list. It's certainly got to be one of the easiest things I can do. It only takes a few minutes to jot a note, right? And I've got a drawer full of pretty stationery that I've been accumulating for years. I can hardly wait to start!

I will be posting this to sites that my family, friends and co-workers all have access to, so if you see this blog, be patient. I will do my best to keep this resolution and let you know how much you are appreciated - in time.

Cool. I'm feeling a little better already.

In Left Field

It's been a rough couple of months. Mentally. Financially. Physically.

I've been in these emotional ruts before. They're not fun. I don't mean to make myself sound like I suffer from depression. At least, I don't think I do. I just get into these funks. I have no motivation. I have no desire to write. I don't want to do anything but sit and veg.

I was sick a few weeks back. Self-diagnosed bronchitis. Sounded terrible. Felt awful. Took three days off work, plus the weekend, so by the time Monday morning rolled around, driving my car felt a bit foreign to me.

Bills are the same. It's a complete drain (mentally and financially) to pay these semi-monthly with my payroll cycle. I've got the cheapest car insurance. I traded in my car to something that was $90 less per month in payments. I've also recently shut off the land-line phone and am now completely wireless, because it saved a little money. Also, and this one broke my heart.... I had the cable TV turned off. Now, really, you must understand something. My heart was not broken because I had to give up reality shows, Spongebob, or the Weather Channel. Truth be told, I very rarely watched television any more anyways. But what I had a really hard time with, was turning in the DVR box. I had a few things recorded that will be missed - or not. But there was something else on there. Something that only I would ever, ever watch. Kate and Wills royal wedding. (Silently brushing a tear from my cheek.)

It still baffles me how anyone I've ever asked has never cared a hoot about the royal wedding. Sorry. That kind of stuff just completely enthralls me. The night Princess Di passed away, I sat in front of the TV - ALL NIGHT. I bought almost every copy of People magazine when any Royal was on the cover. I have the books: A Royal Duty and The Bodyguard's Story. I don't think it's a sad thing. I could just as well be interested in ancestors and genealogy and that would be a cool thing. Oh wait, I am interested in those things. In fact, if I could afford to not have to work, I would spend what's left of my time, after writing, on researching, history, cemeteries. Love. That. Stuff!

Oh dear. I seem to have strayed (yet again) from my initial thought: The fact that I feel as though lately, I am in left field. Stuck way out somewhere away from the game. I see everything going on around me. Everyone getting ready for Christmas: shopping, cards, baking, etc. And I just can't seem to engage. Maybe it's the onset of the horrid winter weather - which actually has not yet been all that bad. Just lots of grey skies. I need the warm temperatures. I need to sleep with the windows open. I need to be able to throw my notepad in a bag and go sit on the beach in the evenings after work. And Fall - my absolute favorite time of year - as usual, went past in such a blur!

Don't you ever get this way? Where you feel like you're missing out on everything around you because of your state of mind? I keep telling myself to snap out of it! But then something else happens. Like a disconnection notice in the mail, or an outrageously harsh visit from Aunt Flo, or the garbage didn't pick up because I couldn't pay the bill. Do you know how incredibly embarrassing it is to haul your full recycling container back up to your garage when the garbage truck didn't pick it up? Here's to hoping all of my neighbors didn't notice.

Wouldn't it be nice if I could just drown my sorrows in some spiked eggnog? But alas! I cannot afford such luxuries. Time to stop in to the consignment shop to see if any more of my contributions have provided me with any income.

Sorry for the rambling. Thanks for listening.