So, today I was thinking; writing has always been therapeutic. So why don’t I write?
I used to use it like a cigarette. Every small status update, every quick tweet or (dating myself here…) post of “SIGH!” in my MSN group, A Place For Teen Parents. But especially my blogs! I remember the smile of accomplishment when I expressed exactly how I was feeling in the shortest possible way. More often than not, it was padded in choice words or explicit song lyrics. But it released those smile endorphins… and made me feel better… even if only for seconds.
So, why don’t I write?
I mean, I do write. I look at FB in the car… on the toilet (don’t act like that’s now where you are RIGHT NOW) and occasionally I sneak some FB/blog reading time in before bed (while Mark watches Star Trek and reminds me just how very true it is you marry your father!) . But mobile is just that… mobile… and not conducive to actual writing.
So why don’t I write?
Honestly? Truthfully? Guilt.
I feel guilty sitting down, on the computer and doing anything that directly benefits ONLY me. Seems these days if I’m not multi-tasking, I’m not “doing”.
And that sucks. And I don’t do things that suck.
So I’m going to write. I’m going to take five minutes and not think about education, bills, Girl Scouts, the Co-op, Bills or laundry. I’m sitting, on this laptop WITHOUT (gasp!) a child in my hand or even at my feet! (THANK YOU MAGNETIC STICK AND STACK and Brooklyn and Tj for the new swing!!!!!!!!!!) and I am writing.
And now my time’s up. LOL.