What was I thinking? I stumbled upon this site (750words.com), it emails you daily to remind you of your promise to yourself to spit out 750 words each and every day. Of the year. Of your life. It’s a commitment!
Right now I struggle with commitments. I floss daily. There’s a commitment I can commit to! Do you know psychiatrists and lawyers use that as a question to evaluate the mental sanity of all potential sociopaths?
That last question is entirely false, but I would believe it if it were true.
Not that I’m a sociopath. But even if I were one I’d be saying I wasn’t one. And do liars ever admit to being liars? Isn’t that some form of conundrum? …or what is the word that I’m seeking?
I’ve mentioned before that I’m on an online dating site. Right now, I just love looking at profiles, and trying to spot a liar (did you know that many – MANY – men lie about their age?) I have also, out of sheer curiosity (which killed the cat, and I’m ever so grateful I’m not a cat), created a male profile. Every once in a while I log in as him just to peruse the female catalog of availabilities. Of course my invented male persona is a hunk of a man and he gets plenty of flirtatious advances. Many must know, ok, MOST must know that he isn’t real because he’s only got one profile pic.
NOTE TO ALL SINGLES: If you’re going to create an online profile, upload plenty enough pics for others to know that you’re real.
I have this love-hate relationship with the online dating world. I don’t want to be on it, hate that I’m on it (I find it just reeks of desperation, and I’m not, believe me, desperate). Yet I keep getting sucked back in. More often than not I slide back in under the influence of what always ends up killing the cat: curiosity. It’s like looking at the IKEA catalog. I’m addicted to it. I can’t help it! I’m not wanting or needing to buy anything Swedish that you can assemble with an allen wrench, yet I just love turning those pages! I love the color, I love the look and feel of the cheaply assembled rooms, I love the energy and vibe they give off.
Just because I look at all those glossy beds in the glossy IKEA catalog does not mean I want to sleep in every one of them. I just want to look, and wonder which one would be most comfortable and solid enough to jump on in the spur of the moment without caving in!
I’m still talking IKEA beds here.
I have pretty much dropped out of actively playing on a roller derby team so I could free up some much needed time to pursue my life’s deeper goals. What have I accomplished since then?
Have I even touched my book to re-write it?
√ Absolutely not.
Have I spent more time taking my online web dev classes?
√ Absolutely not.
Have I finished reading Lullaby which I started over a month ago?
√ Absolutely not.
Have I done anything to re-kindle my passion and joy of doing the clowny kind of shit?
√ Absolutely! Yay me, I’ve been going to an improv group for a month now, maybe even over a month?
But… Have I wasted countless hours scrolling through the catalog of single men?
I used to say I needed a breathalyzer on my computer’s eBay account so I could avoid doing unnecessary and impulsive online purchases when under the influence of adult beverages. Whoa, am I ever glad I’ve not started looking at the catalog of men while drunk! Who knows what kind of trouble I could get myself into when my judgment is below its already lowered than average standard!
Am I rambling just so I can reach my promised daily goal of 750 words?
When will I attack the re-write of my novel?
√ Absolutely tomorrow!
Because tomorrow is where all dreams happen!
Anything can happen tomorrow, and things are closer to happen when you, meaning I, wake up eager to start the day. Which has been happening a lot. I’m so eager to start each and every new today that I am seriously lacking sleep over it. Why wait until 7am to throw the covers off into the imaginary wind when I can crawl out at 5am and kickstart the day before the sun comes up?
Ciao peeps, I have a shit-ton of dreams to chase…