I am giving my laptop a little hug today. I missed it.
Why? Because I like to go down the rabbit hole and cruise around the Interwebs, clicking on stories, checking out pictures, and getting lost in all of the things there are to see. Which means I inadvertently gave my laptop a bad case of the malware blues. Like so much it was running so slow I just stopped using it. Then I went to California for a week and didn't even turn it on. Bringing it back to Texas, Billy immediately pounced on it and has had it the last few days trying to work through the tangled web of bad ish on my hard drive. A few expensive malware and anti-virus programs and much swearing later, it's running...better...but still slow. I now have little green check marks that pop up next to links on pages, letting me where I can safely wander, and a million constantly updating virus protector notifications that drive me crazy.
But I have my computer back.
I realized I have stopped posting again. I always call myself a bad blogger, because I am not consistent and I don't always post the most engaging content. I say it jokingly, but it's true, and me trying to be transparent. I tend to put pressure on myself to blog more frequently, and to have "good content", which helps to only push me further away. There is a bit of type A in me that says "if you aren't going to do something 110%, why do it at all?" So I guiltily let my blog sit without being updated, and any time I get a good idea for a blog post, I forget to write it down, so it never gets written. It's a vicious cycle, man. Part of me says I shouldn't care if I am a good or bad blogger. No one is setting a schedule for me to adhere to, I'm not getting paid to do this or anything, and most of the time I am living life outside of the computer instead of writing on it. But the nagging voice is there, telling me I am a bad blogger. Le sigh.
I don't even have a good excuse like I am working on a new writing project or anything. There's a crazy convoluted thing there, too. I feel like if I give in to the voices in my head that want out in a story, I'll get so wrapped up in it I'll forget about the rest of the stuff I have to do. That's what happened last May. I poured words out into a story, stopped blogging, stopped cleaning my house, cooking dinner, and grocery shopping. I stopped talking to and hanging out with my friends, and got really into my characters' lives and what music was playing on Pandora. I am sure there is a work-life balance, or writing-blogging-life balance more specifically, that I could work towards.
Not having a handle on the balance makes me nervous. I like control. I like predictability. I will forego new things, even things I really want to do, if I am unsure how it will turn out or affect other things. It's one of my "things". It goes hand in hand with me hating change. And surprises. And secrets. *I want to know all the things!*
So instead of an interesting blog post, I am sending some hugs out to you, and if you want to talk, I love to listen. It's easier to sort out other people's stuff than it is my own ;)