Wednesday, September 25, 2013


Being a writer is a convenient (and sometimes valid) excuse for all sorts of lazy, half-assed, self-indulgent, and self-destructive behavior. "I can't have a job right now because I am working on my novel. My novel is my job. I'll worry about bills once I get published!" "Hemingway drank, too, right?" "Hemingway also shot himself in the head..." "Hemingway? Yeah, I don't care too much for him." "I'm depressed because I am a genius and I can't take medication because I am a genius and medication will totally screw with my genius mind. But yeah, alcohol is totally okay."


My life, my spirituality, my general well-being is now going to take that metaphorical front seat. That's the phrase, right? "Take the front seat"? It's gonna be a crowded front seat. Hopefully there will be seat belts for all. I'll make sure to drive the speed limit, both hands on the wheel. But I'm gonna close my eyes! I joke. I'm not Helen Keller in this life, just in a past life (according to my manic pal, many summers ago).

Truthful question: Is my sudden interest in religion, specifically Christian religions, a sign that I might be having a meltdown? Are "awakenings" and "meltdowns" kinda sorta the same thing? Both are super emotional. Both make one shave their heads. Both see Jesus.

Meghan Meghan Meghan: You late bloomer, you. You are figuring out so much all at once, things that -- according to some textbook on human development -- you should have figured out about a decade ago. Maybe you'll never quite "figure it out," and maybe that will be a blessing. At the risk of sending your readers into a collective eye roll, you are blessed, Meghan. You are loved.

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