Simply Someday

It's Anything But Simple, But It's My Life

Keeping Regular

willieWillie Nelson once said “I like myself better when I’m writing regularly”.

I’d have to agree with him. I like myself better when I take the time to sit down and put my words down.  However mundane, witless, or boring; I just feel centered, more in touch with my life.

Like any person, I don’t generally take the time for myself. I don’t spend the time I’d like to spend writing.  There is always something to be done, or finally at the end of the day I feel like my brain is mush. I don’t know how I did it as a student. It seemed no matter how tired, hung over, or even drunk I was, I still managed to write and get kick ass grades. Somehow I’m guessing I would score far less stellar marks. Far. Less. Stellar.

I think part of the reason I do this whole stop and start thing to my writing is, I stop when things are going well, writing has always been my ‘therapy’ and when life is good, I don’t need it. I tend to turn to my blog when things are shitty, sad, or I’m angry. Right now, I’m none of those things. Life is wonderful. Really fucking good actually.

Elliot has been here since June, he’s actually back in Wisconsin for a few weeks visiting Family. There’s a new niece, and people who’ve missed him tons! Joel has been here since May, my daycare is full and my Paisley is awesome. She loves school and is doing great.

I’ve talked about making our third bedroom an office/writing area for us, I’m really hoping to do it soon. I think if I can get my ass away from everyone else and all the household distractions, I may actually sit and write more often. Here’s hoping.

So my goal for the next 2 weeks is to spit out 3 blogs. It’s time to get this train back on the tracks.

One more quote. This one by Cyril Connolly:  Better to write for yourself, and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.”

That Cyril Connolly was a smart lad.

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Single Mum Files…Melancholy

Me 'n' Magee

Me ‘n’ Magee

Nights like this suck.

Sometimes I hate being a single parent. I appreciate the fact that her father wants to spend time with her, I love that she wants to spend time with him. But holy fuck do I miss her.

I miss my kiddo.

I’m in a piss ass mood and I’m having trouble shaking it tonight. I just want to snuggle with my girl, read another Fancy Nancy book, and tuck her in. But I can’t. I am sitting here instead blogging about it.

She’ll be home tomorrow, and by the time it’s her fathers weekend again, I’ll be ready for another break, but right now, I just want Magee home.

I rarely question my decision to be a single parent. On the whole I’m happier, not as angry, and a better parent; but I often feel stretched, and I miss parts of my old life. I miss some of my freedom. I miss my friends and socializing. I miss not being able to attend things because I chose this life.

But tonight all I miss is my girl, her skinny five year old arms wrapped around my neck, asking me to rock her like I did when she was a baby.

Tomorrow will be a better day, I get to read bed time stories, I get to bug her to tidy her room, help me fold laundry and put dishes away. I get to work on her school work, practising math sums and printing.

I can’t wait for tomorrow.

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