Saturday, January 21, 2012

January, Not What I Had Hoped For

I made a decision to start writing again. I told my writing friend, Cherie, that on Friday I would purchase a notebook and a pen. No more I-can't-get-to-the-computer excuses. Well, I didn't get the notebook - I did get the pen. I sat down and the only things I could think to write about were the death of my son and a horrible fight I had with my husband. Neither are subjects I think anyone wants to read about, but that's all I had. So, I wrote it out, then crumpled the paper and threw it in the woodstove. Does that count, does it count as a fulfilling my promise to myself when no one else ever sees the words? 

I'm not sure I've got any story ideas left in my head. I worry that the space I previously used for a creative side is now filled with endless money-making schemes. In my quest to get my head above water again (water=debt these days) I have fully squelched any creative urge I used to possess.

Oh poor me. Boo-hoo. What a baby.

My husband is home. I just I'm done for now. Not sure this counts either.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Your life a couple of years ago was so much different than your life now and maybe it's not just the "money-making" that's taking up your creative mind. You have a lot on your mind with not much time to spare so it make sense that you don't write much now. However, writing a journal - that is private - is a great idea. You don't have to burn the pages...keep 'em to reflect on in the future and see how far you've come.