- Musings of an unemployed writer (unemployed writer...are those terms synonymous??)
- Finding my feet in a city that shakes
- Something to do other than rearranging my tupperware once again
- The trials of apartment living in a building where no one has a job
- Wandering through life with a book in my hand
- If only you could wear books, they would be my only possession
- Being Me...and figuring out who exactly that is
- Reading my life away...addiction or asset?
- Secrets of an Introvert wearing an extrovert's shoes
- Dear God, I hope you're laughing
- What to be when I grow up
- To do: stop making lists of things to do
- If you have your own parking spot at the library, you know you're in trouble
- If I'm a grown up, do I have to stop sleeping with a stuffed animal?
- Can you speak up? The voices in my head are drowning you out
- Tales of a nice girl embracing her inner crabbiness
- Finding the mute button for my brain
So, here's a toast to everyone who is walking through life, certain that everyone else must know what they're doing and where they're going, but who somehow hasn't received the life rules memo yet. And for those of you who have that memo, please share! To everyone who thought they knew what their life was going to look like, what their occupation was, how they wanted to show up in the world and then lie in bed thinking, "what the hell happened"?
To all of us who have discovered that, despite the best laid plans, life can and will throw you curve balls every step of the way. For all who can understand that tetris really should be a full time job and that they really didn't teach me everything i need to know in kindergarten. To everyone who has visited the corner gas station just to have some human contact on a work day where all of the "normal" people are busy at work. To anyone who reads to stay sane and writes to breathe.To those of you who have made lists similar to this one:
Ways to pay my rent:
- Sell my plasma as often as possible
- Find a sugar daddy
- Learn what a sugar daddy is
- Sell my eggs (not the hard boiled kind)
- Call home
- Remember that I'm an adult and should stand on my own two feet
- Ponder where i can find more capable feet
This is a toast to convince you, convince me, convince us all that we are good enough, that there's no such thing as good enough, and that it is in the messiness that we grow. And then again, when will all of these f-cking growth opportunities end...I'm happy being stupid for a while!
This is a salute to my fellow earth members who's greatness just hasn't been recognized by anyone other than your mom. Who are scared to grow up, desperately want to grow up, have no clue what being a grown up looks like, and still get out of bed each morning, messy parts and all. Who understand the paralysis of trying to figure out WHAT TO DO IN LIFE and the pressure that comes when each decision feels like it's setting the course of your life. For all of us who are trying to survive in a lumpy world seeking to make a difference, live passionately, breathe in beauty and voice our soul.
Fabulous blog...so right on and sincere, self revealing an authentic. I have some idea of your struggle and no, your are NOT alone. Married 4 times and without very much wanted children, I too laid in bed questioning my worth, the myth that life and mine in particular would fit the fairy tale version and asked myself often, " How could this happen to me? After all, wasn't my life supposed to be charmed? Doctor's daughter with a beautiful accomplished, albeit sever Bipolar mother, I was supposed to have it easy with a great marriage, a fine career for dillatant, not income, purposes and three perfect children." It was a real shocker when, at age 27, I broke my neck falling off a 10 speed bicycle and was transiently paralyzed and spent the next untold years trying NOT to define myself by that and other tragic events. When I asked my shrink, "How could this happen to ME?" and she responded, "why not YOU?" things began to change. I became one of the Indians and was relieved of the burden of being chief...way too much. I became part of the human suffering masses, each with our own story of triumph and trajedy for which we are all unsung heros. No, Lauren, you are not now or EVER alone. Bless you, my friend. Love, Judy