I have one thousand forty-four blog posts, yet I still just googled "how to write your first blog post." I was curious! And insecure, unsure of what to write these days. Saaaame old same old. Old. I'm getting old. I'm getting old enough to know that my day does not have to revolve around the following: writing x number of diary entries disguised as blog posts, being a slave to a machine inside of a building full of florescent lights and men sporting tight shorts, compulsively checking various social media sites, reading a good chunk of a book while ignoring virtually everything else in my life. My day does not have to revolve around these things. Who knew? Who knew that I, for the most part, have the power to choose where I spend my energy? What little energy I have. Restlessness does not equal energy. Someone get this girl a steak/burger/iron infusion as soon as possible.
If I do not spend my energy on these various activities, where do I spend it? These somewhat self-destructive things that I do on a regular basis have become so familiar, so comfortable. If they are suddenly taken away from me, will I panic? Will I be apathetic? Will I laugh and take the habits back? I want to quit them, I don't want them back -- so it looks like I need to replace them. I need a plan, I suppose.
I can write. Privately and freely. No editing. Just write, just let it be awful, just let the typos happen. Point is to make it happen, to quit talking about writing and actually do the writing.
I can meditate. Because it works. It's hard, but hard things are often the things that actually work. Ain't no shortcut to enlightenment, buds.
I can be suuuuper obnoxious and get into suuuuper healthy foods. This will replace the less-than-healthy substances I put into my less-than-happy body. Does this mean I'll have to start Instagramming my gluten-free dairy-free cage-free hormone-free antibiotic-free flavor-free kale/spirulina/nutritional yeast smoothie? (There are probably no nutritional yeast smoothies out there, but maybe I can be the one to start the trend?)
I can spend more time with people I love or at least with people I like/tolerate. It is so obvious that I need to surround myself with other humans, at least occasionally. The hermit life is probably my destiny, but before I reach that destiny, I might as well experience what it's like to engage in real life conversations. And I guess a hug or pat on the back or fist bump wouldn't hurt. The fist bump might actually hurt, though. My knuckles are dry, cracked, sensitive.
Well, there's more I can do. There will always be more that I can do. But maybe it's time for me to stop writing about these replacements and try one of them out? I think I'll go with the eating-healthy-foods one. Okay, my wasabi laced jumbo sandwich may not be labeled as "healthy," but it is labeled as edible and if there's something I need right now it is edible substances. In short, I need food. Guess we all do. And we all need to log off. Right now. Just for a minute or five. Just long enough to read a poem or five. You can thank me later. <3