Turn and face the strange

Hey, so that whole thing where we decided not to have a posting schedule? Yeah. That didn’t work out very well. So we’re scrapping it. I have Wednesdays now, so, Hi Wednesdays!

So what have I been up to? Well, I had a baby, my second child.

Juju

Cheeks!

And at some point during these long nights and days I discovered something fundamental about myself. I need to write every day. And I don’t mean that like,

aw shucks I really should write every day,

or

I hereby resolve to write every day because all these writing books and blogs say I ought to,

but

damn, I have to write every day.

I have to be a good person to my husband and kids. I mean, that’s not really optional. My baby has rejected the bottle, so I can’t take my prescriptions or even have a beer at night, as I am on-call 24 hours a day for nursing. I’ve tried other forms of stress relief, like exercise or self-care, but if I use my one chunk of free time a day to do yoga and paint my toes, then I don’t get to write that day, which causes enough inner turmoil to null any benefit gained by my pedicured warrior pose.

Now that I am forced to face myself in all my glory  I must write daily to relieve the pressure in my brain.  Otherwise I just get weird; sullen and irritable, restless and itchy, filled with inexplicable dislike for myself. I still want to succeed at this, and my new responsibility has only sharpened my hunger.

So writing has become something new to me: a necessity.

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