AUTHOR: Beth TITLE: Free Will DATE: 3/22/2005 08:55:00 PM ----- BODY:
from Now, I've been trying to steer away from personal diary-type blogging, because that's something you do only if a) you have an interesting life and b) you're willing to do it consistently. That may be one of the big problems with this blog--inconsistency. What can I say. It matches me. One minute I want to write a grand sweeping expose of some political matter, and the next I want to write a poem so personal it'll make me cringe in embarrassment later. Right now, I just want to write voluminously. Doesn't matter what. Somewhere, that hypergraphia has been turned on, and I'm dying to be deep in a writing project. Doesn't matter the subject, as long as it's long, involved and heavy. Maybe I miss school? I've been tossing the idea of quitting the paper back and forth. On the one hand, "quit" is up there with "wait" on my list of four-letter words, but as always I went to my own personal Occam's Razor, K, and she said "Drop it, dude. Just cut it loose. It's not getting you anywhere anyway." For the past three weeks I haven't really been able to work there, anyway, because of various bullshit. And I've fallen into a rhythm I kind of like a little bit--work, come home, spend time with Steve, get things done one thing at a time. Today I finally tore apart the mound of crap in the kitchen, sorting scraps of paper and old bills into files and a trash bag, consolidating and reorganizing the closet off the kitchen (while silently thanking whatever deity may exist for the storage space in this apartment), happy to be immersed in something...strike that. Happy to be immersed in something completely my own, for me, taking care of myself, my space, the day-to-day banalities of my life. And then--sweet, precious then--though of course the shrieking eels in my head rose the alarm about how I should really consolidate and organized every single box, tear apart my file drawer, get those book reviews that have been waiting and waiting and waiting done, maybe start working on that short story...I've decided I will blog, I will watch an episode of CSI: Las Vegas with my incredible boyfriend that I haven't been appreciating enough, and then I will go to bed. When it comes to working, and accomplishing, I've discovered two things: 1) It doesn't matter how hard I work or how much I achieve--it's not worth a hill of bullshit in the end if I'm still unhappy and 2) Quality. Not quantity. It's tough, I have to say. Old compulsions are rearing their ugly heads. But old compulsions lead back to the same old places. Places I'm comfortable keeping in the past.