Mood: Meh (It's been a long week...a very long week, but this weekend is a three day holiday weekend so things are looking up.)
What I'm Watchin?g: It's the Easter Beagle Charlie Brown (Seriously, what a classic and Woodstock? Totally has a happening pad!)
When I was a little kid with lopsided ponytails and really bad 70's polyester clothing I decided that when I grew up I wanted to be the gas station attendant who checked the oil, pumped the gas and, best of all, washed the windows with the super cool squeegee. Why? Because it just looked like fun. The guy was always smiling, always whistling and, besides, hello? The squeegee!
I never considered whether I would make enough money to support myself, whether people would look down on me for working at a gas station, whether I'd look good in that blue and white striped shirt with my name embroidered on it or whether it was a job that I would be good at...I wanted to do it because it looked like it would be fun.
Writing started out in much the same way. It was a fun and creative way to entertain myself. I wrote fantastically horrible stories that I was just sure were pure literary genius and I was happy. At some point, though, I allowed some of the fun to be sucked out of the writing experience. I allowed people to tell me that I shouldn't or couldn't write - that it was silly and a waste of time. I allowed myself to internalize those messages and began to doubt everything about my writing. Eventually I decided it would be easier if I just kept my writing to myself.
I was so scared someone would find out about my shameful secret that I even hid it from the hubs. When he moved in with me I actually threw out several notebooks filled with years worth of notes, story starters, ideas, etc. because I was so afraid that he'd find it and think that I was stupid or silly or whatever other horrible thing that I was afraid of. Yes, I realize now just how stupid that was (stupid, stupid, stupid)* because, the hubs is incredibly supportive and he nearly cried when I confessed that I'd tossed out so much of my work because I didn't want him to think I was stupid for wanting to write.
Now, I'm working on rediscovering the 'fun' in my writing and trying to learn to embrace my inner awesome. After all, writers are completely awesome people - we get to create and manipulate worlds using nothing more than our imaginations and simple words - what could be cooler than that? Want to learn more about your inner awesome? Check out Tawna Fenske's blog post about it. Really. Do it. Now!
So while I may not have a squeegee or a shirt with my name on it, I've got a totally cool laptop and my livescribe pen? Is just made of awesome!
What about you? Have you found your fun and embraced your inner awesome?
*slapping self on forehead kind of stupid