Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Responsible

There aren't many things in this life that makes me worry what others think. I don't care about the latest fashions and what's popular on the radio....I buy what I like and listen to what pleases me. Mostly, if lots of people like something I tend not to like it for that reason alone. The radio in my car is always tuned to my iPod (Ben Howard). My mom has always said that I walk to the beat of my own drum. I am not a follower but a loner lost in a world of my own overactive mind.

So it may come as a surprise that I don't like letting people down. If I make a promise or agree to do something I try like hell to follow through. I'm not talking about trivial things like going for coffee or calling. I'm talking about things like babysitting, remodeling my moms house, being a better mother. I make promises to myself all the time, yell less listen more, breathe, count to three, watch the cussing. This post is strangely cuss free go figure. The point is something, maybe a childhood lesson in church, a big talk on integrity, a remembered class about morals and values, all of these things attack me when I don't follow through.

Right now I'm far behind a deadline (again) it may only be a personal one, but it is just as important as the ones I make to other people. So as my deadline gets further and further behind me, and my fingers continue to sit limp and unused at my sides I realize my outside promises are interfering with my inside ones. The goals I've set for myself as a person are falling aside to be trampled over by someone else's responsibility, by someone else's needs.

This bothers me for two reasons:

one: I am and will forever be a creature of habit and self reflection, I will always seek the comfort of my own inner voice above another persons. I am very okay with being alone (even though I'm not) its that whole loner thing. When my ID, or EGO or whatever the damn psychological name is isn't satisfied I sort of lash out verbally, I become a grump. My patience evaporates and I'm left very unhappy.

two: It was a promise or agreement that I made that was "supposed to" expire over three weeks ago. Said agreement isn't important, because in the end the choice is up to me, do I finish at the peril of my ID and writing, or do I cut my losses say sorry and move on. It isn't my responsibility as the allotted agreed time has exceeded exponentially. As a grown up I feel guilty, but as a writer and self employed one at that, I feel used. I feel taken advantage of.

So do I fall prey to my fear of being a flake or irresponsible, which responsibilities are more important, my job, paying or not, or free daycare for another person??

I don't want to judge or point fingers, but when is enough enough?

When can I say no and not feel guilty....probably never, but if I won't fight for me and my writing, no one will. I have to take a stand and say NO and own it.

NO!

My writing is just as important as your day job.

My writing is NOT just a hobby, it is my career, my savings grace, my passion in this life.

If I hear one more person tell me I don't have a real job (especially a mouthy five year old that doesn't belong to me) I will snap!!

I am a writer.

I am damn good at it too even if I occasionally suck (snark snark, no ones perfect.)

This is my job, and I need to be getting on with it. So goodbye other pervious agreed to persons problem, hello The Otherside, Scent Hound, Demon Unleashed, and whatever crazy ass projects I wanted to finish this year. Here's to publishing another book in 2013!

Monday, April 1, 2013

Broken Keys

I recently purchased a new fancy laptop, and while new said laptop is rather awesome, there is something about it that leaves me...sad.

No longer do I have to use the right shift key only because the left is broken.

No longer do I have to press down rubber stumps instead of keys.

Alas I have real computer keys pristine and unmarked by use...and yet I miss the broken laptop.

We went through a lot that computer and I...two books, a move, countless projects, and one unrecoverable loss.

Is it strange that I miss my old laptop as I write this, maybe, but knowing myself probably not.

I once cried for two hours when my youngest son broke a blue mason jar my recently departed grandma had given me. I've learned that lately I hate all changes that she isn't here to see. I hate the holidays she isn't present for, the crazy things my kids do that I can't talk to her about. I miss that safe haven I had knowing she was alive and well in the world. I miss my grandma, I miss her friendship and guidance, but most of all I miss her voice. I find myself playing it over and over again in the hopes that I won't forget.

All of this boils down to one thing....I hate change, even the good kind. Change is an all too painful reminder that life goes on after those we love have left it. Life goes on. I guess I should be getting on with mine.

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