Hi guys. I show up here every day, open a new post, and stare at a blank page. They say that successful people adapt to change easily. I sometimes wonder if I’m successful or not. I adapt, but I also resist a little. Sometimes I prefer the safe, comfortable feeling of normalcy.
What am I babbling about? My sidekick started school. Every morning 4 days a week we’re up at 7 am. We brush our teeth, get dressed (sometimes argue about this), and hit the door running.
I might have cried a little on that first day. I’ll leave that for you to decide. As I was trying to take some photos, hubby was trying to shew me out the door. I might have been annoyed with him…
a little a lot. My friend Tiffiny gave me advice to not be by myself in those first few days and to keep myself busy. I went to the gym and took out my sadness on the treadmill. That day I also conquered the elliptical and started on this stair climber that hurt way to bad so I moved to a stationary bike. I came home in a better mood. But I was also ready the minute it was time to fly to the school to get her.
This week she informed me I didn’t need to walk her all the way to the door. That was pretty much a slap in the face too. Time needs to slow down just a bit, please. I already see her walking into her last day of college or something like that. The good news is she loves school. I hope that always stays true. Truth be told, I was a bit of a nerd. Truth. I secretly loved school. I hated homework, let’s be real. But the friendships and truly the learning part I loved. I hated homework though so I tried not to have any.
When I got home, that was my time. I had more important things to do than homework.
In college, I took a memoir writing class. Seems like lately, I’ve read a lot of memoirs. The professor really wanted us to open up and write. Really… no one in the class actually heeded his advice. We all stayed closed and just hit little topics. haha. The other night I started writing a chapter in my memoir… in my head of course. It was 3 am and I was in a room of snoring people. Therefore I couldn’t sleep so in my head I was writing a chapter in my memoir.
The chapter’s title was How About Them Yankees. Just typing that makes me smile and until you read the chapter, you won’t get the reference. Why am I putting this out there? Well because sometimes I truly want to write a memoir. But who on earth would want to read it? Truthfully… I’m a nobody. I’m not famous. This blog doesn’t really get read by many. I just wonder sometimes…
We already have the title picked out for it… Standing on My Head in the Corner Stacking BB’s with My Nose. Yes, you read that correctly. I guess the other title could be, I’m Knitting a Sweater. Why did I choose those titles? Because I’m a dork. Or maybe, just maybe it’s because those tend to be my responses to a lot of questions. That and For a Dollar. But For a Dollar just doesn’t have the same ring to it.
I was watching a movie the other day. The father was a writer. His daughter was supposed to be writing a poem for school. He asked to read it and she said it wasn’t finished yet. He basically said that the hardest part about being a writer is that first read. Making yourself vulnerable to allow other people to read your work. I sat there shaking my head yes and raising my hand. I’ve always hated other people reading my school work (except the teacher). I was always afraid I would look stupid. And the oxymoronic thing there… I blog.
So I’m sitting here… plugging away… trying to find my new norm. I gotta run because my partner in crime is hollering at me!