The flashing cursor mocks me.
Write every day, they say. Set a time. Find your creative core. Don’t let fear/anxiety /self-doubt get in your way. Just write…
Thoughts run through my head at the most inopportune times. I’ll get the spark for a post, or the skeleton of an anecdote, story, or maybe even just a random blurb. Life doesn’t cooperate, however, and by the time I can sit down at the computer, the thoughts are gone. 5 cups of coffee later I’m still staring at the cursor on the screen. There was an idea there. Once.
I’m a work-at-home mom.
I’ve entertained the idea of joining the 30 days 30 posts challenge. The problem is I know myself all too well. I’m a starter. I love to start things. I get excited. I get motivated. I focus. Briefly. Then the moment is gone.
Even this blog was started with the best intentions. My plan was bold. I wanted to (still want to) organize my life, and especially my home. This blog was my answer. I’ll create a blog about my journey out of the chaos, I thought. That will keep me accountable. Uh-huh… Tell me another one.
I’m not ready to give up.
I’m not a finisher, but I’m also not a quitter. A procrastinator? Absolutely. I make excuses. I beat myself up. I wallow in self-pity. And then I come back to do a little more.
Rhinoceros Dreams.
I am a writer. I just get distracted.
Heading out the door this morning to take the dog out to pee, my daughter reminded me that I haven’t cleaned her sandals yet. She asked me to do it yesterday.
“I will”, I promise loosely, “when I have time. I have a million things to do right now.”
“One,” she begins to recite, “you need to do laundry. Two, you need to put me down for my nap. Three, you need to do the dishes.”
“Yes, ” I sighed. Even my 5-year-old daughter understands my struggle. Or perhaps she has heard me moaning so often that she knows what I always say. Yes, that’s probably it.
I look around the room. We’ve managed a bit of a tidy up in the front-room at least. Now it looks like a normal person’s disaster. This morning it looked like we were packing in a rush to evacuate our house for some kind of emergency. We are a family of clutter-bugs.
I feel busier these days than I did when I was working full-time outside the house. I think that ‘s because I was kinder to myself back then. Now I’m home all day, and there’s so much to do that I stand at the edge of the room like a deer in headlights. My ADD has my mind spinning through a myriad of things I should be able to accomplish yet can’t seem to even get started on.
Even this post will sit in my drafts – it has no focus. Random thoughts are all I seem capable of these days.