I miss one day of blogging and suddenly I don't know who I am anymore. Kidding. I never know who I am. But let's stop all the kidding, folks -- writing, as it turns out, is important to me. Perhaps even vital. Sure, I may not doggedly pursue a career in writing, but I still feel compelled to write often. It simultaneously soothes and riles me up. I don't know how that is possible, but apparently it is.
You know what else is possible? Switching up my routine and schedule and being out in public and not freaking out due to any of these things. Well, not totally freaking out. Small, mini freak outs happen, but they are quickly "managed" and I go about my merry way. I say this because yesterday I went to REI and Barnes and Noble with my papa and it was overall a successful adventure. An adventure! An adventure into capitalism and identity shopping. I did, however, have one big setback while at REI. I caught a glimpse of myself in a full-length mirror and felt, well, ugly. I don't need to go into detail. I just felt dumb and subsequently self-conscious for a good hour or so. Sigh. I need to learn to think through these moments in order to see things more clearly -- ask myself questions, observe, try my damnedest to quiet the inner critic -- because I am far more than a reflection in a cheap mirror.
I thought I would have more to say seeing as I have been gone from this blog for a thousand years/24 hours. I thought wrong! Or maybe I simply need to tap into the muse. Tap tap. Silence. Yeah, nobody's home. I'll leave a note on the door.
In the meantime, let me brainlessly list some things I have been craving:
*Cracklin' Oat Bran
*huge veggie sandwiches
*a really, really absorbing book
*interaction with an animal
*warming my bones on some red rocks