The rumblings in my brain won’t cease. The to-do list swirls with items that I can’t be bothered with checking off because I know they don’t matter today. Normally, my notebook list is crossed off and I feel good that I’ve accomplished so much. But today, not so much.
It’s dreary here. Raining in August which means there’s no place to go. Sure, I could file away the tons of paperwork I have accumulated, but I don’t feel like it. I don’t want to nap. I don’t feel like reading. I coulda woulda shoulda be doing something productive.
Instead I’m writing to you. Nameless, faceless you – not even sure if anyone will even read this blog post.
I feel like I need a job. I’d like something planned before September comes and I’m set afloat on a sea of hours while the kids are at school. Not that I can’t find things to do then either. It’s just that I’d like a little something to do, to feel responsible for and to maybe even earn a little bit of money.
I’ve been so busy for the past few months with the move, the divorce and all the challenges that came with it that I’ve now got down time and I don’t know how to fill it. I know, you don’t feel sorry for me because I don’t have a 9-5 job that I hate. You’re right. I’m not asking for your pity. Far from it. I am asking for your suggestions.
I have some health problems so I can’t do anything 9-5. I long to write and love to write. I’m good at proof-reading and I easily pick up errors in writings. I love to read and to create. Sure, I could write those few books that I have swimming in the back of my head, but I need a spark to ignite me. I keep hoping that September will bring that spark.
Until then, it’s just me, writing my blog. Hoping that someone reads it.