I started writing late tonight and without much direction. For anyone who knows me, this is neither new nor exciting. Procrastination has always been a fault of mine, but I do admit that I work better under pressure. In this case, I’m not bumping up against any deadlines or limits save my own. So where’s the pressure?
The pressure is the goal I set to get back into writing. Previously, I had a minimum word count of 1000 to consider a post acceptable for blogging. I didn’t put limits like that on me this time because I knew how hard this was going to be. Will I get back to that point? Sure, but it’s going to be challenging finding the inspiration I used to have.
I used to have a lot to talk about.
There’s a lot in my life worth talking about now, but I’m still lacking direction. I started writing about my sister. I got a few sentences in and realized I wasn’t ready for that. (Or was it that people I know who will read my post aren’t ready for it? Maybe.) Then I started writing about the kids and what we have planned this week. Too simple. I wrote a bit after that about some of the work Matt and I did in the house today. They were little things, but being a family of procrastinators means we’ve been putting this off for a while.
After deleting all that, I wrote about Matt and how awesome he’s been lately. He’s been thrown some curveballs and continues to be supportive, patient, and understanding. It’s more than I could ask for and sometimes I wonder if it’s more than I deserve.
Deleted again. Too woe-is-me and definitely not my style.
In the end, we get gibberish with a few small hints of topics that crossed my mind and were discarded for now. There will be boring blogs. There will be talk of my sister, Matt, and the kids. I’ll talk lifestyle, I’ll talk about my friends, and I’ll talk about my family.
Tonight though? It’s just the grab bag.