you're shaking my confidence daily

Okay, I know I haven't sent out those 2003 CDs yet. I'm sorry. It's taken this long to print them up. I'm probably going to send them in batches so the shipping won't break me. Also, I need addresses. If you know I don't have your address and you asked for a CD, please e-mail me. monalisa816@hotmail.com. Thanks. :)

I have a problem. As I've mentioned, I have been sort of gearing up to write stories again. Or just memoirs...anything, really. I always wanted to be a writer when I was little. I have plenty of chapter stories in my file cabinet, written in pink pen on notebook paper during my seventh-grade science class. I haven't written a story since I took creative writing three years ago, but the desire is still there and I think I might be ready to try again. Unfortunately, I've come to realize that I just have no time. The creative process requires a lot of time. Even if I finish my chores on any given day, I have other things that need attention, like Evan, my still-unfinished webpage redesign, exercise, letters and e-mails, photo editing, and my scrapbooks. I can't afford to spend two hours a night in front of the computer, waiting for something to come to me. This will continue to be the case into the foreseeable future. So I'm thinking I will never get to be a writer, at least until I am a retired grandma who doesn't have to work.

My lack of time is just wearing me down in general. On my employee evaluation this year, my boss's only criticism was that I needed to stop working so robotically. I'm afraid that's true throughout my life because it's the only way I know how to get everything done. Every day, I come to work and spend the whole day putting out fires, one after the other. If I get a spare second, I have e-mails to reply to and bills to pay. After work I go to the store and buy the same necessities I bought last week. I go home and do the same laundry and the same chores I did a few days before. If I finish everything, I curl up on the couch with Evan and watch the same shows we always watch. Then I put on the same old pajamas and go to bed. There's just no time for anything else.

What I want to know is, is this what adulthood is about? This assembly-line existence? Where's the joy and excitement? The new things to tackle each day? I'm not saying my life is totally devoid of these things- I know I'm blessed. And I love my boyfriend. But I feel like I'm not accomplishing anything worthwhile. Writing, the one thing that might actually contribute something to the world, doesn't fit in my schedule. It's no wonder I act like a robot, because I feel like one. I perform a bunch of tasks and then I shut down. The end.

Attention Friends fans: NBC is taking votes for the top six episodes. They're going to air them during February and March. You can vote every day, so bookmark it!

( States and a random thing from Shana )

you're shaking my confidence daily

Okay, I know I haven't sent out those 2003 CDs yet. I'm sorry. It's taken this long to print them up. I'm probably going to send them in batches so the shipping won't break me. Also, I need addresses. If you know I don't have your address and you asked for a CD, please e-mail me. monalisa816@hotmail.com. Thanks. :)

I have a problem. As I've mentioned, I have been sort of gearing up to write stories again. Or just memoirs...anything, really. I always wanted to be a writer when I was little. I have plenty of chapter stories in my file cabinet, written in pink pen on notebook paper during my seventh-grade science class. I haven't written a story since I took creative writing three years ago, but the desire is still there and I think I might be ready to try again. Unfortunately, I've come to realize that I just have no time. The creative process requires a lot of time. Even if I finish my chores on any given day, I have other things that need attention, like Evan, my still-unfinished webpage redesign, exercise, letters and e-mails, photo editing, and my scrapbooks. I can't afford to spend two hours a night in front of the computer, waiting for something to come to me. This will continue to be the case into the foreseeable future. So I'm thinking I will never get to be a writer, at least until I am a retired grandma who doesn't have to work.

My lack of time is just wearing me down in general. On my employee evaluation this year, my boss's only criticism was that I needed to stop working so robotically. I'm afraid that's true throughout my life because it's the only way I know how to get everything done. Every day, I come to work and spend the whole day putting out fires, one after the other. If I get a spare second, I have e-mails to reply to and bills to pay. After work I go to the store and buy the same necessities I bought last week. I go home and do the same laundry and the same chores I did a few days before. If I finish everything, I curl up on the couch with Evan and watch the same shows we always watch. Then I put on the same old pajamas and go to bed. There's just no time for anything else.

What I want to know is, is this what adulthood is about? This assembly-line existence? Where's the joy and excitement? The new things to tackle each day? I'm not saying my life is totally devoid of these things- I know I'm blessed. And I love my boyfriend. But I feel like I'm not accomplishing anything worthwhile. Writing, the one thing that might actually contribute something to the world, doesn't fit in my schedule. It's no wonder I act like a robot, because I feel like one. I perform a bunch of tasks and then I shut down. The end.

Attention Friends fans: NBC is taking votes for the top six episodes. They're going to air them during February and March. You can vote every day, so bookmark it!

( States and a random thing from Shana )