I'm just way out of sorts.
I don't know what this blog is suppose to be anymore. I love all the design and decor stuff and it's so popular (all things being relative - I realize some people have 100,000 + visitors to their blog a month, I'm just getting up around the 8,000 mark...but still) and I really do love having a place where I can explore that part of my personality - the part that is really interested in decor, and art, and photography. I just like pretty things. I'm like a little kid that way. I like the shiny stuff.
A long time ago I blogged more about my life, about disappointments or things I was doing, sometimes about my kids - milestones, etc. Sometimes I even wrote more artistic or literary styled posts. And the thing is I always really loved writing. When I was a really little girl I sent away from the back of a magazine for one of the ads where you sent in a writing sample? Those things are total scams - it's like that thing where you draw bird in the turtleneck? or whatever he's suppose to be - and then they tell you that you should totally come to art school? But anyway - I did that and I got this packet in the mail inviting me to join their writing program. I was so excited. I was 10. I'm pretty sure they never even read that story. I went and told my mom the exciting news. She had to break it to me. Which really sucked.
But I always kind of stop myself - I always hold back a little because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I don't want to say things that make people uncomfortable. I don't want to come off the wrong way. In short, I worry way too much about what people think of me to REALLY be a writer. If you're going to be a writer, you just have to go for it, and as of yet, I haven't quite figured out how to do that.
Today was terrible because it feels like my whole future is riding on things I can't control. Or that I have very very little control of. And I hate that feeling. I hate worrying about things like that. And I hate that I'm not just naturally smarter. I hate that this math and statistics stuff feels like it's going to be the end of me. That just sounds so stupid. If someone else was saying this I would tell them to just put on their big girl panties and shut up.
And I really want to write about all the things that have been happening in my life. How sometimes my days vacillate between being totally hopeful and grateful for all these amazing things that I love and at other times I am just filled with abject fear and terror.