Once Upon a Time

I used to write. I used to write all the time, usually sitting in one dingy all night restaurant or another, my lungs screaming from my second (or was it my third?) pack of cigarettes, head pounding, no less than a gallon of coffee coursing my bloodstream. My boyfriend thought I was nuts. I'd stumble to work the next day with my own special brand of a hangover. And it was awesome.

Then things happened. I quit smoking, not that it mattered as it's now banned in restaurants, anyway. I began watching my caffeine intake. I got married and had a child. I guess I grew up more than I had planned.

Mostly, that's good. I'm a homemaker, which I absolutely love. I guess I absolutely loved the things I did in my former life as well, but honestly, this is the first time I really feel fulfillment from what I'm doing. My child is the most fascinating person I've ever met. If I could have one wish it would be to understand exactly how her little mind works. My husband... If a perfect person exists, I'm certain it's him. How he puts up with all the shit the child and I throw at him, I will never know. I cook and bake and craft my heart out, which thrills me in a way most would describe as disturbing. I'm a mediocre housekeeper, but you can't 'em all, right? If there's a way to make my life better, it's yet to be discovered.

Still, something's missing. Wait. Don't go. I swear, I'm not going to prattle on about how I've become a wife and mom and lost myself. Losing myself isn't even possible--trust me, I've tried. But there's still something. And it hit me.

I'm the kind of person who practices conversations before they happen. I don't know why, because the minute they start, all those preparations go right out the window, but I still do it every time. Not when I write, though. I just sort of type whatever I'm thinking and watch for the red line that says I've misspelled something. Otherwise, that's the end of my editing. The next morning often finds me filled with shame and regret, but again, I still do it that way. Shame and regret aside, it's somehow exhilarating. Just to say whatever is on my mind! And my mind is its own little world. Seriously. When things get boring or sucky, that's my retreat.

So, I've decided to start writing again. And drinking coffee in the middle of the night. We'll probably leave out the smoking, though. In any case, this holds a multitude of benefits for me, but that's not important. What's important is what benefits it holds for my audience. Most of what I plan to write are little tidbits of my day, repackaged in a (hopefully) more interesting way. You'll get to experience my little retreat. And, I promise, it's an amazing experience. Or maybe that's just me. Guess you'll have to stick around and decide.

Okay! Now that the boring introductory stuff is out of the way, I guess I need to come up with some stuff!