I don’t even know where to start. I feel like my blog has been overlooked a bit by myself, to say nothing of my personal journal. I tried to boost my moral the other day and start a new journal, a moleskin that was gifted to me at Christmas. It was my goal to fill all the pages in my previous, purple, dollar journal I was working through but after an entire month of Tim being home it still had about 10 empty pages at the end. Screw it. Most of my journals end that way anyway, why should this one be any different? But you know what will be different? The new journal. I am going to fill it — and this time I mean it! So I have three days worth of entries in it. I have tried to write at least one sentence for the last three days. It’s working out, I hope to keep it up so that these days don’t go by totally undocumented. That said, I just don’t know where to start. I used to think it was impossible not to think of anything to talk about because when it comes to writing I can do a lot of it. Maybe it’s because I have become a little self conscious because there are so many good blogs out there. Blogs that are focused and to the point telling a story. Blogs that are humorous, witty or smartly written. Then there are the long rambling blogs that have entries I lose interest in about half way through. I started to wonder to myself if perhaps I wasn’t one of those long pointless writers. It sure feels like nothing is cohesive enough in my day to write about and yet at the same time I can’t just limit myself to writing one little cute story about some adorable thing that Morella or Athena did (though I love reading those).
At Stephen King says in On Writing, you are writing for one person. I have thought about that a few times over the past week. Who am I writing for? It changes from season to season — but when it comes down to it, the answer is me. I am writing for my future self, just like in the that movie The Notebook. I am writing to myself so that I can remember. Of course that doesn’t mean that many posts are influenced by people I think might be reading it. People that I want to engage.
I guess when I grasp that it is me that I am writing for, the next step is easier. What do I want to know about now in the future? Do I really care that I washed the dishes or am pissed that I am the only one that knows how to load the dishwasher? do I want to know that I emptied all the little garbage around the house, or made a Mexican casserole for dinner? Not really .In fact, I sort have quit writing that stuff down in my paper journal, though there are times when I flop back to writing lists because, “Hey lists of things to do are a better record than no record at all.” Right now, I am not in that phase. Though tomorrow i might be, because writings lists helps me focus. With lists, I can organize my mind. I can break down what needs to be done. I can feel accomplished when I cross things off like sort laundry and pick up toys because those things are hard to do with 2 kids under 3 milling about the house.
So what do I want to remember about today? I had a bad day, relatively speaking. I was just in a bad mood and it just didn’t seem like I could figure out how to get out of it. I was so irritable. A friend suggested that maybe it was PMS. Maybe. I haven’t had a post partum period yet, so really any day could be it. I went nine months after Morella and it’s now 10 months with Neeners. I could be any day. It would be nice to be nice to blame it on that I think the worst part of today was when my Mom called and asked for money because they ran out of food. I told her that I could send it tomorrow but it wouldn’t get there until Tuesday and that I hated to send cash because you just never know what might happen. I could barely understand her because she was mumbling and Morella was screaming and yelling, following me into whatever room I went so I could try and hear her. It in turned caused me to yell and since I was already feeling irritable I just started in and gave her the riot act about her poor spending habits. Not necessarily my best moment, especially considering that she doesn’t ask it of me much anymore.
After the phone call, I called Walmart and a local grocery store to see if I could buy a gift card over the phone that they could pick up. Both said that wasn’t possible. My Mom lives in a small town so there was no chance of having food delivered. I was sitting at the computer desk staring into space and wondering what I could do while Morella and Athena both crawled all over me making ridiculous and incomprehensible demands when I saw my friend Jessie log in. Here is where my extreme good fortune was apparent because I asked her for help. I asked if she would be able to drop a meal or something off to my family and maybe a bag of apples or something until the money would get there. She said no problem, and in fact did better than that. She got a bag of groceries and contacted her church to get together some more food for my Mom. A few hours later I got a call from my Mom. She was astounded that Jessie had just shown up with a groceries — more food that she thought. She told me over and over what was in the bags and was really happy.
I am so blessed to have such wonderful friend like Jessie. Thank you! I owe you one.