I'm still holding on to the positive elements of Saturday, and I'm trying really hard not to let them fade into obscurity. I think I need to keep doing that, and keep drawing on what's good in my life instead of everything that has sucked in my life (a bad trait, yes I know, but... no one's perfect). I think I'm already making progress. This is my second blog this week. That's one good thing right there. I got two MUG awards in two weeks at work. That's another good thing, especially since about two or three weeks ago my head was on the chopping block for "inconsistent performance." What can I say? My boss, a nice guy most of the time, is a nitpicker, and perhaps too meticulous with everything down to the most minor detail. I, on the other hand, don't sweat the small stuff. A MUG award is an award at work (just a cheesy coffee-mug shaped pin and a little card) given to partners (as we're called, not employees) who go the extra mile for customers and/or fellow partners. One was for leaving a shining store for the openers the next morning, and the other was staying an extra hour and a half the other night to help mend a leaking ceiling (and yes I did get paid for it).
I was browsing through some old literary magazines from back in high school, and I reread some old shit I had wrote, and I was actually kind of proud on what I had written back four or five years ago. I was reminded on how much people actually kinda liked my writing, and I don't know why I ever stopped, or tried my hand submitting shit to magazines or whatever. Ever since I had a nervous breakdown 4 and a half years ago, I became ultra-guarded about everything, including my writing, and felt that it was better to build a wall around myself. I've spent the better part of this time isolating myself from old friends that actually liked me and weren't the pretentious assholes that took me for granted. I restrained my muse, and let it wither on several occasions. I procrastinate terribly to the point where I go to do something, and, to me, it doesn't matter anymore. If I could keep an annex full of aborted ideas or unrecorded thoughts, the annex would be the size of Honduras. I'm not gonna do that anymore. I'm not gonna let my writing be a secondary priority anymore. Nor am I gonna isolate myself from everyone. Nor am I gonna put off things that may better me anymore. I'm also not gonna feel like I missed the boat on opportunities that will make me excel in this life. Sure, I'm 23 years old, but 23 isn't old. Some people are out of college and have decent paying jobs by that age, but there's also a lot of people who, at 23, don't even know what the fuck they want in life. They're still toughing it out at a not-so-great job, and are easing their way through school until the day they actually know what they want, and I fall into that category. And I'm not feeling like shit about it anymore.
With that said, I'm going to bed, going to the bank tomorrow morning, going to the mailbox and mailing my car tax bill. In between tat, I'll conjure up a good idea for my next blog (next apolitical blog; my girlfriend says I blog about politics too much). Peace out.
I Got Published
14 years ago
1 comment:
I find it interesting that you made an entire post about how you let other people affect your writing too much, and then your very last sentence implies that you are still letting other people affect it. Don't let anyone tell you what you can or should write no matter how close to you they are. I've done the same thing and its a mistake.
Write what you want, and what you care about now. If that's politics, write it. Your passion will come through and if its good writing, it doesn't matter what its about.
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