A mile a minute doesn't even begin to describe how fast I have been moving these last few months. Work, home, dog...where to begin?
Honestly, who really cares? All that matters is that I have found my way back to my little world of writing that I love so much. The beauty of that is, it means I am also breathing again...trying not to stress and trying not to be consumed with things that don't matter to me...like my job. I don't mean to imply that my job isn't important to me, because it is. It pays the bills...ok, not even some of them but it pays a few of them (like my cell phone bill and occasionally I can take myself out to lunch) but what I meant to say was that I don't want my job to rule my life.
I don't want to think about my job when I go home after work, or when I am laying in bed at night. I don't have that kind of job and more importantly I don't get paid enough for it to occupy my thoughts after hours. I do my job and I do it well. That is enough for me. When I go home, that is my time to chill, to see my husband, to play with my dog. Those are the things I love, the things that occupy my thoughts after hours...the things that matter to me.
I am remiss about all the writing opportunities I have missed the last few months. I think about stories in my head that I could have put to paper (or computer screen) or thoughts I could have shared that may have given you a laugh or helped you in some way. More importantly by not emptying my head of all those things I haven't created room to breathe new life into my thoughts, to create new stories...that is what I regret the most...the stories lost.
