I’m going to write. And write and write and write. I haven’t posted here since March, so, for posterity’s sake, I suppose I should catch myself (and you, my devoted readership of two) up on what’s been happening for the last seven months of my life.
1. I’ve been keeping a written journal. I hate that word “journal.” I’ve been keeping a notebook. One of those old-fashioned ones with the lined paper and curlicue-wire bindings. So, even though I haven’t been writing here, I’ve been writing.
2. Speaking of writing, I’ve spent the past year working on a novel. Like all the other novels I’ve started, it seems to be falling apart just as I’m getting toward the end of it. None of the other novels ever got finished, so I fear this one is headed for the same fate. If I were hand-writing the wretched thing, I would throw it across the room and delight in the sound of it hitting the wall with great force. However, since I’m typing it on a laptop, I can’t do that. Which means lots of pent-up frustration in my throwing arm. Which also happens to be my writing arm, coincidentally enough.
3. My kid is almost FIVE YEARS OLD. She’s in PRE-KINDERGARTEN. She’s READING at a third- or fourth-grade level. She’s taking BALLET and is showing some TALENT at it. She can color IN THE LINES. (I’m not yelling those all-caps words. I’m just saying them really loudly because they are concepts of some disbelief for me.)
4. I’ve fallen off the fitness wagon. A year ago, I was in the best shape of my life. Now I’m . . . I’m not sure what I am. I won’t say that I’m in the worst shape of my life, because I’m not. I can’t say that I’m fat, because I’m not. I’m just . . . flabby. I’ve lost a lot of muscle tone. And why? No clue. One day I just quit working out and haven’t been able to start again. Until yesterday. I did my Burn Circuit 2 yesterday, and today is core work and a short run (jog, actually). So I’m going to take my “before” pictures today and will take “after” pictures in another couple of months, after following my ChaLEAN Extreme/TurboFire hybrid workout for that long. No, I will not post them online.
5. I got a job. I’m working in customer service for a company in downtown Asheville. I work with good people and enjoy the work, plus it’s all for a good cause, so I’m pretty happy with the old professional life these days.
6. I’ve been pretty stable mentally/emotionally for almost two years, thanks to the miracle mood-stabilizer Depakote. Unfortunately, Depakote also makes me stupid and shaky (think Parkinson’s), so my pdoc and I are trying to figure out how to fix that. I’m hoping my new re-commitment to fitness, while not what the doctor ordered (the doctor likes to order pills), will have more of an effect than anything else.
6.5. I think the Depakote may also have made my hair curly. Either that, or I'm just getting old. (See #9 below.) But I now have curly, curly, curly hair. People keep asking me if I've gotten a perm.
7. I’ve played a bit of piano here and there, but not as much as I should or as much as I want to. To be honest (and why wouldn’t I be? why do we even use that phrase in the first place?), this novel has been my life for the past year. Outside of my husband, child, and job, it’s come before everything else.
8. Yes, I’m procrastinating. I’m avoiding the novel because I don’t want to get depressed at how much time I’ve spent on it and how it now seems to be falling apart. You’d think that, after a year and three drafts, the &^%$ book would have enough redeeming qualities to be completable.
9. My other favorite mode of procrastination has been puzzle books. The kind old ladies have. I think a fondness for puzzle books may be one of those “You know you’re getting old when . . .” indicators.
10. It’s time to stop procrastinating and work on the novel. I feel like a kid who’s about to get in trouble, and the novel is the principal’s office. I do not want to face it.
The End. (Oh, to be able to write those two words, once and for all, in reference to this novel!!)