So, my finger tips have been burning, and I have a million things on my mind. Yet, I haven't been writing. I am not sure that the things I have to write about are appropriate for a blog. I like writing when I know no one is reading, but with a blog, that's just not the case. This is the stuff for people to read - and wouldn't you know it, I'd actually like to write stuff that someday, people enjoy reading.
Some part of me would really like to be a published author. I've started probably about 10 books in the last 4-5 years. I'm trying to decide if I'm failing at writing a whole book, or if it's just a really long process? I'm not sure which. In fact, upon browsing this computer this evening I've discovered only one of my starts is here. I have one on the desktop, as well. Both were intended to be masterpiece material, but I get bored
trying to figure out how to break a book into chapters and scenes and, let's face it, I'm no professional.
So here sits I, blogging on this Monday night. I still have one son awake, in fact he is now....thirsty! I only put him in bed an hour and a half ago. His older brother? Out! However, the little one seems to think sleeping is for anyone other than himself and he avoids it all cost and tantrum.
I'm going to start selling Pampered Chef, in all of this wonderful spare time I don't have. I'm going to talk to a student advisor about nursing, and I keep considering a change in job. You know what I'm realizing about myself? I want to be something, or someone great. I lost a huge part of my identity when I had to go to work and wasn't married anymore. I was something great, I was a wife and a stay at home mom. I was raising two kids, and tackling every day messes. Somehow, working, and sending them to school & daycare left me feeling void. I'm no longer something great. I have a stressful, pointless job. I see my kids for something like 34 hours a week, not including when they are sleeping. And that's only if they aren't with their dad on the weekend. When he takes them...I get like 10-15 hours a week. I no longer feel like a great mom, I'm not a wife, not even a girlfriend. I'm no longer a great volunteer (in fact, I haven't volunteered in months).
I bought myself a horse, and decided I was going to do great things with her. Yeah. I see her once a month-ish. Great. I was going to get in great shape and loose a bunch of weight. Nope. Hasn't happened.
Am I the only one that longs to do something great? What do you want to do that is great? I can't decide if I'm spread to thin to do anything great, or if I just haven't found what I'm supposed to do great at.
Well, that's all for this lonely September post...good night!
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