I am absolutely blocked.
Wait, no, that's hyperbole. I have all of these ideas of what to write about, but they all require research. By the time that I have a couple of moments, after the darling monster has gone to bed, and I've pretended to clean up after dinner and maybe thought about starting a load of laundry or even the dishwasher, I am wiped out. I have so many ideas about what I want to do, for this space, and elsewhere, but no time at all.
Growing up, we heard from so many sources that we needed to follow our hearts or dream big or that you are all unique (no I'm not--for the Python fans) or some other Disney-esque bullshit that's fed to children now. We learned through TV and magazines and any other form of media that we could get our sticky little paws on that we were all special shining stars and that all we had to do was be special and special things would happen to our special selves, if only we would believe. Can you tell that I think that's bunk?
What did that do for me? I can't tell you, but I can tell you that, though I might have believed at one point, that I was a special snowflake of a shining star, I don't believe anymore. I'll leave behind my unrealistic expectations of actual adult life behind and take a good dose of reality. You don't always get to follow your special star to your special place. Not when there's rent and a car payment and shoes and food and, and, and. Someone has to do the dirty jobs, and I can tell you that cleaning up funky toilets in hotel rooms isn't anyone's big dream.
I guess what I am getting to, in quite a round-about, unintended soap-boxy fashion, is that I need to learn to make this, right now, my special-snowflake-shining-star place. Not having any time, running around, chasing a darling monster needs to be my special place. And I will come to terms with that.
~~~~
Holy zombie jesus, that got a bit maudlin.
I will say, for context's sake, I have my Pandora set to Dengue Fever, and a very sad-sounding song was on, Amorino by Isobel Campbell. I think that had something to do with the direction of this post. Ack. I'm going to bed now.
Faites de beaux rêves, mes petits choux.
I guess what I am getting to, in quite a round-about, unintended soap-boxy fashion, is that I need to learn to make this, right now, my special-snowflake-shining-star place. Not having any time, running around, chasing a darling monster needs to be my special place. And I will come to terms with that.
~~~~
Holy zombie jesus, that got a bit maudlin.
I will say, for context's sake, I have my Pandora set to Dengue Fever, and a very sad-sounding song was on, Amorino by Isobel Campbell. I think that had something to do with the direction of this post. Ack. I'm going to bed now.
Faites de beaux rêves, mes petits choux.
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