current location: work
current mood: contemplative
current song: blahblahblah
It's been ages and years and lifetimes since I posted anything online anywhere but facebook and message boards. It's not that facebook is so much more enticing, in fact, I desperately miss the ability to sit still, and think thoughts, and put them down in writing, but I have so. little. time. and so much to say, and I sit down, and all these thoughts flutter into me like little half-formed butterflies, and I end up saying nothing because I can't sort it all out. I update Facebook with some lame status, and wonder where my time went, as I go play blocks with my kid.
I know I have my priorities in order. I wouldn't change anything. Doesn't mean I don't miss the way it used to be. It's taken some time to get my brain rearranged.
I'm trying to switch jobs (again). There is too much bile taken out on me for things that I can't fix here. Management has had conversations about how they'd hate to see me go. I smile and nod and work my ass off, but will drop this job like a hot potato, if I can find something better. The economic climate is not one that will allow me to just quit, like I'd like to. I'm committed to working full time until Robb is done with school. Frustrating, but again. Priorities. When he's through school, and finds a better job than the one he currently has, maybe I won't have to work full time.
Big realization of the month; while I love my mother very much, I don't respect her at all. I don't think she did a particularly good job of being a mom. I think she could have protected me more, and allowed her to protect me less. It's why I hated the first four seasons of Gilmore Girls; they had the relationship my mom thought we had, and I wanted Rory to break off, leave her mom in the dust, forget all about her. I'm a little bit broken that way.
I'm dealing with that brokenness every day in my marriage. My head is always looking for ways to prove that I am not loved, I do not deserve this, my wonderful daughter, my amazing husband. It's a constant battle with my own brain, to remind myself that I have worked hard, become a better person, that I do deserve to be loved, to be taken care of, to be respected. It's not easy.
I am finally writing the book about adoption. It's hard. I'm writing about a character who is living in the worst moments I've ever experienced. I was there for maybe ten minutes in thirty years. I'm making her live there, and I don't know if it will get better for her. Ever. That's scary, and makes me feel guilty. I hope that Lia can survive everything I'm putting her through and come through the fire, tempered.
I've submitted the vampire novel to several agents. All of them sent denials within 48 hours. The last agency has had the book for 10 days, and hasn't said no yet. I'm starting to get excited, even though there's miles between this and getting an agent, and lightyears between getting an agent and getting published. It's a start. It's me, putting it out there. Trying.
I'm trying to be brave, every day. Trying to live in the light, and shy away from the darkness, instead of the reverse. It's so hard, so impossibly hard. Thinking about living the whole rest of my life like this makes me dizzy; I don't think about it if I can help it. I take one second at a time, one choice at a time, and focus on honesty, on lovingkindness. Sometimes it makes it harder, because so many people seem to think I have this thing dialed in. Sometimes I'm afraid to fail. Sometimes it's easier, because I have an image to live up to. Sometimes I feel suffocated.
Those are your random thoughts for today.