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Monthly Archives: June 2013

When you need to be AWAY…

Sometimes, when you’re looking at 300 plus people on a daily shift, the prospect of being social, answering phones, and putting a smile on your face is too damn much.

I’m not miserable. Actually, compared to about ten years ago, I’m much happier. I am smarter. I’m wiser. I’m older, sadly, but such is the consequence of life.  I’m much less motivated to write, which is distressing, but at the same time, I’m not writing crap that only serves to whine as I did about ten years ago.

I don’t like the phone. I never have. I avoid phones if I can. If I can write it or type it out, I’m much happier. Lately, though, these feelings have gotten worse. I can’t really explain it outside of being an introvert and how often the damn phone rings when I’m at my work. My last day of work, I think the phone rang 20-30 times during an 8 hour shift. Combine this with talking to hundreds of customers during that time, it is no wonder that when closing time happens, I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to call in a take-out order. I don’t want to hold a phone to my ear. I don’t want to discover how to save 20% on my electric bill. I just want to be left alone. I want to curl up with my Kindle, or play a mindless game on my computer, or glance at Facebook and just be quiet.

I’ve never been that social. This isn’t to say I don’t like people or being around people. I like being around people that accept me for who I am. My family, for instance, is a very busy network of people. I love just sitting at family gatherings, watching other people reconnect and be social. I don’t feel left out. I used to. I don’t know. I’m just not that way. I like being in the corner and watching. I like feeling a part of things while being on the fringe. 

Beyond that, being with my family in a social way is ten times different than being around people like my customers. I don’t hate my customers, so don’t get me wrong, but they’re not blood related. I don’t look at each of them and see the part of me that I’ve become stemming from who my family is. My family is loud, bold, and the most loving bunch I know. For an introvert like me, that’s a lot to handle, and I love every damn minute of it because they’re MINE. That’s my family, my blood, and the legacy handed to me. I wouldn’t trade it for a damn thing in the world. 

I don’t go out every weekend. I hate bars. I hate crowds. I don’t enjoy myself in them. I don’t like being watched; I don’t like being a part of someone else’s commentary. Sometimes, I just want to sit with another person or two, someone I feel 100% comfortable with and not saying a damn word. 

Best damn therapy in the world…

 

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Posted by on 06/17/2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Anger shouldn’t be a motivator…

Here I am. Again, I’m posting after a time away, apologizing for the silence and hoping those that are reading (*waves*) forgive.  I wish I could say I was traveling Europe, fighting some massive disease/disorder/family problem, or digging up a mummy in Egypt, but frankly, the mundane details of life are to blame.

See, I had a post I was going to write last week. It was a list, of sorts, of things I’ve observed and/or believed people should think about. It was very angry. It came from pure frustration, and without looking back, I know that I named the post: Frustration.

Sometimes, I miss being the writer I was. When I was in college, I was constantly stimulated by what I was learning. I admit it. I’m MAD about school. I love learning. I love delving deep into topics, even if other people think they’re over the top. Heck, an average night for me is researching random points of history or pop culture just so I can learn as much as possible in the shortest possible way. I’m a junkie for it, and in my day to day life, it’s something I miss from being 20 and in school.

I miss it because that intellectual stimulation was enough to make me believe and trust in the ideas in my head, and being informed by all I learned, I was eager to apply such new knowledge to my writing. Thus, any new book I read became a new way to explore the worlds already in my head, and every new history lesson gave me a lot more input in the world building I had out in front of me.

Then, I sorta became an adult. Sorta because I still haven’t figured out how to have my cake and eat it when it comes to the dividing line between responsibilities (jobs, bills) and the temptress of writing.

I wish  I could wisk away all the damn frustration and stress of the day, and just let loose in writing. However, I’ve never been a stress writer. I write when happy. I write when in love. I write when I feel confident and happy. I can’t write when I’m ready to wring someone’s neck because the responsibility to show up to work is too much, or I’m exhausted, getting home at 1am, and hoping that the next day doesn’t involve any unexpected maneuvers. I just wish I could go back to the days of easy writing.

But, I can’t. Somehow, I now have to teach myself to write in all this stress and conflict. Somehow, I have to revel in it. My life’s not going to get any easier. Things aren’t going to fall easily in my lap and work out. That’s just simply not my life’s trajectory. Yet, for so long in my writing past, that was how it worked. How do I teach this old dog this new trick?

Maybe this life-long learner needs some new lessons…

Until next time, when things hopefully will be brighter!

 
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Posted by on 06/11/2013 in Uncategorized

 

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