It’s time to figure out what I’m doing with this writing degree that I’ll be spending the next three decades paying for.
What is a legitimate obstacle for me though is I work full-time. Some weeks, more than full-time. So, by the time I get home, I’m too tired to think. I don’ t know how to get around this. The only time that I’m creatively productive is when I’m on vacation from work, which is a few weeks each year.
I am desperate to not waste what I worked so hard for the last three years. But I feel like I have zero time or energy. As I write this, I’m yawning every other minute; my eyes are watering; and I’m pretty much ready to go to bed at any time.
I have to figure out something. I don’t want to waste this. I don’t want to waste this. I don’t want to waste this! You got that, Me?? You’re officially on the clock.
I also don’t read as much as I’d like to for the same reason. So, something has to change.
I wrote a poem yesterday, which makes me feel a little better. But it’s only the tiny beginning of what I really want.
I had an idea, but it wasn’t coming out right. It was sounding more like a persuasive piece on why one should do what I was talking about, not just my meandering thoughts on what I was talking about. And then, every idea I had after that was missing something.
My voice wasn’t there.
Everything felt forced, like I was painstakingly tryyyyying to maaaaake a blog post blahblahblah blahblah. And that’s not what this is. I mean, sure, in the most literal sense, this is a blog, and I’m making posts. But the material isn’t supposed to be so planned. It’s supposed to be sincere and raw and straight from my head, hence the subtitle.
I remind myself of that- Forget that there are readers. It’s only you having one of those mental soliloquies that you have so often because your mind never turns off. But still, nothing felt right.
Does this spell trouble for future posts? Will it be a struggle all the time? I grimace at the thought.
I do have a lot on my mind these last few days. Maybe that’s jamming up my creative channels.
- School starts up again in exactly 2 weeks. I feel slightly panicked because of how much work it is, but I’m excited because it’s the start of my “senior year.” And that shows me that I’ve made progress. Two years down; two to go!
- Work is stressing me out. I work in an industry in which sales is a large part of the job. We’re supposed to try to get people to open accounts and sign up for services. Our performance reviews depend largely on how well we each meet our quarterly goals. And not only that, my manager’s performance depends on how our branch performs as a whole, which also affects how I perform and my subordinate performs. AND my subordinate’s performance affects mine. It’s this huge web. So, while I’m having to sell crap to people, I’m also having to pretend that I care about it when I really, truly don’t. I couldn’t give two shibbity doops. We’re having to make lists of people who we can sell things to when we see them next. And honestly, it’s just not the line of work I belong in. Finishing my degree is supposed to solve all of that, but that’s still two more years of being this underling whose value depends on other people’s choices.
- One of my best friends just had a baby.
- That may not seem like something to be overwhelmed by, and I’m not. It’s so great, and I’m happy for her. And I visited them at the hospital when her baby wasn’t even a whole day old yet, and it was wonderful. I’m planning to be as present as I can be and happily so, but it’s kind of worrying me. Will I be present enough? Will I be a good enough friend during this time? I really freaking hope so.
- It’s making me feel like I’m severely behind schedule. I’m older than she is by a couple of years, and I don’t have that many good childbearing years left, maybe one or two. They say that, as women age, they have less and less chance of conceiving, and I’m pretty sure there’s something about the older the mother, the more risk of certain health issues for the baby and difficult pregnancy. I’m very concerned about that. It weighs on me a lot, to the point of tears. I think about how I have two years of school left, and then I’d prefer to establish myself in a career that I love before I have kids. But by then I could be 40. So, I don’t know what to do about it. Have kids first? Put a career on hold even longer? That doesn’t seem fair.
- And then of course, my friend’s experience with giving birth wasn’t the best and makes me even less excited about that part than I already was. And she’s a labor & delivery nurse, so she knew what to do for herself. I, on the other hand, am more than skeeved out by anything medical. But I’m thinking about going to some kind of therapy for that because it’s kind of a problem.
Maybe this is what I needed. To lay it all out there. I would say it’s pretty sincere and raw. And it’s definitely straight from my head. Success.
And now, I can go to sleep.