Who Cares?

If you've been wondering what the heck I've been doing and if I'd ever blog again, you're not the only one. It's no coincidence that I've dropped off the face of the blogosphere. The truth is, there's not much to tell. Once home from the excitement of my sojourn to Italy, I suddenly became a wee bit self-conscious about blogging; who the heck cares about my thoughts now that life has resumed an inordinate amount of mundanity*? I've had nothing to tell you; no job to speak of (although, not for lack of trying), no new romance, not even a true place to live! Life with my extremely friendly and exorbantly nap-prone cat at my mom's house hasn't been any particular hardship, but it seemed unsatisfactory material to share with the world. Suddenly, I was gun shy: I had lost my confidence. Because really, why would anyone be interested? Who the heck cares?

Eventually, I did come across a few "blog worthy" events, but I just couldn't bring myself to post about them. I knew that if I gave it a go, it would only be a half-assed effort and, like it or not, I'm an all-or-nothing kind of girl. Needless to say, you readers (if there still are any) have been given a big fat dose of Nothing.

But at the end of the day...I really missed it. I wanted to be writing; sharing my (supposed) wit and (hopfully) clever stories with the world. But I was no longer sure how to do it. It felt like an unsurmountable obstacle, how could I possibly write anything interesting now? Especially when I'm convinced I'm a) uninteresting, b) at a complete loss for material and c) sure that no one is listening anyway (because who wants to write if no one is listening?).

But I've come to realize that none of those things make one lick of difference. Who cares! Who cares! is right. It doesn't matter if I'm uninteresting, have no real content, and no one is reading what I type - that is the whole point! I've been given free reign to write as much (or as little) as I want and instead of sulking about my so-called "hardships," I'm going to seize that freedom with both hands. Writing ought to be for my own explicit satisfaction. So now, I'm going to write because I enjoy writing! If others care to follow along with me, well then, please do. This is intended as a forum of sharing so I plan to do just that.

The truth is, the only real obstacle up to this point has been my own deluded, non-linear form of thinking I often mistakenly term "logic." Because the thing is, more often than not, I make up and apply a million different rules and sets of criteria that I force myself to follow (thinking this will of course make life better/easier/more enjoyable), but in reality it makes life more difficult/a pain in the arse/disproportinately stressful. Why, you ask, do I do this? I know. Perhaps it's simply where I fall short as a Stabilizer. I can recognize patterns, but fail to apply a useful or appropriately named rule to the patterns. Or perhaps I've just been doing way too much internal processing and I need to get out and talk to real people more often. Either way. (Insert shrug here.)

The fact of the matter is I'm no longer defining success as simply entertaining you the reader (though, admittedly, it's still a priority). Instead success will be the art of craftily breaking my own self-imposed invisible rules. Success will be reminding myself to take risks and try something different. Success will be disciplining myself to write more often and become a better writer. I felt as though I had gained quite a bit of ground in this area while on my sojourn, but I've come to realize I'm looking at a 4th and long scenario instead of 1st and goal. (Insert sigh here.)

Fortunately, I'm a tenacious and incurable optimist! :D

So who cares? Turns out, I do. And maybe you too. But either way, I'm going to write for the fun of it. I'm going to write because I like it. I'm going to write to improve myself and (hopefully) become a better writer. I hope you enjoy it, but if you don't...who cares?

*Yes, I totally just made that a word; roll with it people.