Now, don't hear me wrong. I've got plenty of things to be feeling guilty about. Somebody in my brood stole a piece of candy from Seven-Eleven yesterday, my Etsy store has been "on vacation" for over a year, I haven't showered in
But this, of all things, is what cues the guilt twinge? I mean, for the love of everything unholy.
I just wanna write. Do I have to FIGHT, for my WRITE, to PARRR...er...wait. That's not it. Focus.
The point is, I need this. I need it as an outlet. I've missed writing so. It's cathartic and therapeutic and I've got a terrible damn memory. I need to write some of this shit down. The perfectionist in me can hardly bare the shame of dealing with the fact that there's NOT a real point to it all other than that. But the human being in me is balking, "So?"
I'm NOT consistently blogging the childhoods of my bunch. So? Most of the time, it's NOT proofread before it's published. So? I don't have a defined "writing voice." So? Making it my 4th baby just CAN'T be a priority for me right now. So? It's NOT my career and NOT going to be followed by the masses or turned into a book. So? But other people are just doing it so well. SOOO?!
So, here's what. I'm putting MYSELF on notice. I'm just writing. When I can, when I need to, as I have time. And I'm just going to be OK with that. I'm also abandoning my WWMPD (What Would Ms. Penick Do) philosophy and choosing to use capital letters and ellipsis for drama if the mood so strikes me. And, you know what? If I end up in jail, it will be because my children are literal thieves and not because of my grammatical incorrectness.