I moved here for a simpler life. I envisioned my children and I eschewing the television and pointing our feet out the door for a stroll through the countryside. The number of days I have actually done those things is embarrassingly few.
I am doing it wrong.
Just because you say goodbye to a cubicle and leave the "corporate world" behind doesn't mean you're stepping away from the rat race. In fact, if you aren't careful you might just be stepping into it. Especially if you work online.
I read too much stuff on the internet and it affects me or influences me or crowds my brain and it just feels wrong. Serge has it right. He doesn't read blogs. Not a one. He reads articles and researches crap and yeah, probably spends too much time on Ebay but we all have our weaknesses. Sometimes I feel like I wrote better when banging out a post between working at a news station and being a mom. It was just honest stuff, the first thoughts that came to mind in the twenty minutes I had to write something. Now I frequent the web too much. Click a link here, another one there and before you know it I've fallen down the rabbit hole. The noise, it's so loud.
I just want to write what I want to write without it being influenced by someone else's thoughts or drama or styIe and when I'm all up in other blogs all the time that ain't gonna happen. Sometimes I am inspired by someone but most of the time it's just noise. More noise up in my head competing with precious brain cells that are already filled up with the latest drama on The Real Housewives and a bunch of other nonsense I shouldn't know about.
Today I want to disappear from the internet. PING! Gone. No blog, no Facebook, no Twitter. Just stuff I'm paid to write on Babble. Could I survive as a writer on Babble without all of you generously clicking my links? Maybe. Maybe not. Probably not. It would be a lot harder, that's for sure. So no, the internet is a part of my life but I have to cut the crap and use it wisely. Which, I'm still struggling over at Famecrawler because, man, I do not want to write any stuff about celeb kids and I don't want to be a snarky asswipe but that seems to be what nails the page views and I just don't have it in me, you guys. I just don't. It's a fine line. One minute you're writing as best you can about what a great mom Jennifer Garner is and two weeks later you find yourself pontificating about the bad behavior of the Jolie-Pitt children or verbally shaking your fist over Suri Cruise's latest outfit: should she be wearing white shoes before Memorial Day?! Can't do it. So yeah. Thanks for clicking my stuff over there in March because I wouldn't have made it without you all, that's for sure.
I guess what I'm saying is I need to pull my head out of my ass and start living my life with purpose but I'm having a hard time doing that. The older I get the less I feel like I know. What I mean is, when you're younger you're kind of an asshole because you think you know everything and then you get older and realize that you didn't know jack. And yes, realizing you didn't know jack is a sign of growing up but it also serves to make you unsure of what you think you know right now. Am I going to age five years and look back on myself now and roll my eyes? You dig? Oh my God, are you even following any of this?
There are so many posts on this blog that I go back and read and, man, I am telling you what. My butthole puckers so intensely I nearly choke on it. I can be an epic dumbass. But that's all part of the journey, right? Being an epic dumbass, realizing it, learning from it and moving on. The internet is written in ink, man, and all my stuff is here for the reading. I'm okay with that. Yeah, it's definitely weird to see people who don't like me use the stuff I've written about as ammunition against me - and there is plenty of ammo in these here pages... I've done a lot of stuff I'm not proud of. Stuff that happened before this blog that I've written about and stuff that happened that I chronicled in real-time here (*cough* Serge's ex-girlfriend drama *cough cough*) and I'm not even a little bit embarrassed about it. Okay, I'm totally embarrassed about it but I'm supposed to be. Being embarrassed by stuff I've done and written about means I realize what a dumbass I was and it's the realizing part that's key in life, yeah? So I guess you could say I'm not embarrassed about being embarrassed because I'm supposed to be embarrassed. Wait, what?
I know I'm rambling but what I'm trying to say is that I feel like I'm at a crossroads. I am struggling. I am cartwheeling down a mountainside and cannot get a hold of anything to break the fall. I've been able to grab onto some scraggly bushes a time or two and then I hold on so hard I pull them out by the root and continue my free fall.
I've been dwelling in negativity and I've got to reverse it. Even if it involves getting all meditative and Buddha on your ass. Even if it involves long, rambling posts detailing how Serge and I got up early to see the sun rise or whatever. I am drowning in yuck and I need to flip it, big time and I've got to do whatever it takes.
Thanks, whoever you are for reading this. Even if you don't like me it is comforting to know someone is out there.