Being 25 and all, I seem to be learning more things about myself as I go along. I know this is one of the things that everyone tells us will happen. You become more used to your skin. You grow into yourself. You understand more who you are.
A minor thing I'm beginning to realise is that I have quite an impulsive, slightly obsessive personality. I find something new and go charging gung-ho into the new 'project'. After a couple of months and after many hours of obsessing, constantly thinking about it, centering my life around it, interest tends to wane. I love blogging. I love feeling like there's somewhere I can write. I have always loved writing, I even flirted with the idea of becoming a journalist at one point.
I am also somewhat of a perfectionist. If I do something, I want to do it perfectly. I don't want to do anything half way or without a million per cent of my energy. My dad always described me (not particularly in a good way) as someone who never had any grey. Everything was always blackest black or whitest white - I couldn't have anything in between. I wonder if that is an aspect of perfectionism?
Anyway, the point I'm driving at is that I am finding it difficult to blog right now. There's nothing extremely poetic to talk about, I have no romantic stories, no qwerky descriptions of my daily routine. My need to blog also came from endless hours of boredom at work - this is THANKFULLY no longer the case. Friday is my last day, and it could not come quicker. So I will no longer have 8 hours a day to peruse strangers typed-out lives and dwell on subject titles for a blog post.
Hopefully this won't be the end. Knowing me, as soon as I say I won't blog anymore I'll be posting 10 times a day (remember the whole black or white thing?).
A minor thing I'm beginning to realise is that I have quite an impulsive, slightly obsessive personality. I find something new and go charging gung-ho into the new 'project'. After a couple of months and after many hours of obsessing, constantly thinking about it, centering my life around it, interest tends to wane. I love blogging. I love feeling like there's somewhere I can write. I have always loved writing, I even flirted with the idea of becoming a journalist at one point.
I am also somewhat of a perfectionist. If I do something, I want to do it perfectly. I don't want to do anything half way or without a million per cent of my energy. My dad always described me (not particularly in a good way) as someone who never had any grey. Everything was always blackest black or whitest white - I couldn't have anything in between. I wonder if that is an aspect of perfectionism?
Anyway, the point I'm driving at is that I am finding it difficult to blog right now. There's nothing extremely poetic to talk about, I have no romantic stories, no qwerky descriptions of my daily routine. My need to blog also came from endless hours of boredom at work - this is THANKFULLY no longer the case. Friday is my last day, and it could not come quicker. So I will no longer have 8 hours a day to peruse strangers typed-out lives and dwell on subject titles for a blog post.
Hopefully this won't be the end. Knowing me, as soon as I say I won't blog anymore I'll be posting 10 times a day (remember the whole black or white thing?).
2 comments:
Don't stop completely, please! I love your writing and knowing about your world. Or at least come to the family page. G&G love hearing from all of you guys. Best wishes on your new venture - I hope it's all you want it to be. Let us know how it goes once in awhile.
Thanks for your encouraging comments to Kev and me on our journey through that horrendous time in our lives.
I love reading you too! But I def go through phases where I don't read or write either. It gets to be a bit boring over at mine, I feel you can only post about your kids so much and then enough already, I mean my own anyway, okay I'm rambling!
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