I haven’t been writing much.
Some of it is work related. I sort of accidentally informed my work about this blog and while there’s nothing on here that I’m ashamed of or worried about them finding, knowing your boss might read something you write is a little bit stifling.
Some of it is just that I’m feeling a bit blocked myself. The words that comes so easily sometimes, the funny little stories about normal things, they’re just not coming right now.
Some of it is that I’m really quite content. I find myself writing when I’m worried or stressed. For example, see my last 6 months at my old job and my 6 months of unemployment. I have never been a more prolific writer or needed the catharsis of getting it out in words more. But now, I’m just content. Busy with work and feeling like I don’t see enough of people, but happy. I have my dog and my husband and my friends and my little house and garden and work and I’m content. I don’t feel the pressing need to write to relieve pressure. (I also don’t break down and weep uncontrollably at random moments – bonus!)
Some of it is that I’m working on a secret writing project (unrelated to my work writing project, which is the one where I accidentally spilled the beans about this personal blog) that occupies the writing portion of my brain. Someday, if I manage to follow through and finish it and it ever amounts to anything, I’ll tell you about it.
For now, I’m camped out in my house, watching it pour outside, sipping hot tea while Bach pours through my stereo, working on my secret writing project and sneaking in a few rows of knitting here and there.
I hope you are just as content with yourself.