Yesterday I celebrated my umpteenth birthday. I did this by dropping my husband off at the airport at 8 am, at which point I discovered a bird had gone to town on the side of our pickup truck. That bird must have been eating at an all-you-can eat Indian buffet…
I received an overwhelming amount of birthday wishes. Many were as outrageous and creative as “Happy Birthday Marie” written on my Facebook wall by my crazy out-of-the-box thinking friends. But then there were many deeper testimonials. These brought me close to tears.
My friends told me how inspiring I am, and that I play a key role in keeping everything so bright and positive during our roller derby practices. They told me how uplifting and encouraging I was. And here’s what they don’t know – all this time that I was keeping their spirits up I was feeling utterly depressed.
I think the world needs not worry about me! This work thing gets to me, or I let it get to me. But do I really? If I’m uplifting and keeping my entourage’s spirits up when I’m down, can you imagine what I’m like when I’m not feeling disturbed?
It’s a frightening thought.
When I came back to San Diego my personal goal was to re-write my novel in a 1st person narrative. This is the amount of time I’ve spent working on it since January 1: 0 hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds.
“If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.” ― Stephen King
Other than reading blogs, I’ve spent just about as much time reading as I’ve been working on my novel: 0 hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds. My mind just wasn’t into it – it (my mind) was too busy being obsessed with re-vamping the resume, scouring the internet for jobs, and re-writing cover letters in a variety of voices, styles, and approaches.
I hate that I let this happen to me.
On Monday I have this thing that will start. I’ll be working [from home]. Working with a schedule, and a boss, and deadlines, and objectives. It’s only 20 hours a week, for now. But that’s enough to free my mind for really investing myself in what I love most. Twinkies!
Another year has been stamped on my forehead. If you sliced me up you could count the rings that have been adding up. I wonder if you would also see what I’m truly made of… I wonder if I would ever see myself for who I really am.
I may be a work-in-progress, but I count my lucky stars for the friends and family who hold mirrors in my face showing me that I’m fucking amazing.