You know what the weird thing is? (Other than starting posts with a random question) It’s the fact that right now, my world is full of extremes. I’m either locking myself in the bathroom at work with the taps running so people can’t hear me cry or I’m stifling a laugh when one of my students comes to school with a stuffed rodent and proclaims to everyone “Get over here and touch my beaver! I’ve got the softest beaver in the wooooooooorld“. The downside of course, is that a second after you catch yourself smiling, you feel guilty. Like being depressed means YOU MUST BE SAD EVERY SECOND OF EVERYDAY- and I assure you, that’s almost the case. But for 7 seconds today it wasn’t. And I’ve been wrestling with that all evening. And will continue until it’s 4am and I realize I haven’t cleaned the bathroom yet.
(Keep reading, this post gets less boring. And it involves audience participation).
It’s also a battle to even decide to write something. I know HAD is reading this and like I said, I really dislike that he will get a continued update on my life, while I get an ulcer worrying about his- since he’s decided to cut me out like I’m a baby killer or jeggings manufacturer. I make jokes because it’s easier. The truth is, there is a physical pain that I feel worrying and never knowing what is going on. But, like everything else- I will figure out how to deal with it. THE POINT OF THIS RAMBLE, was to talk about how I miss writing. A lot, actually. And not just writing things where people feel the need to talk about how great you are so you don’t harm yourself, but writing of any kind. I miss thinking of the best way to describe my day, or finding the perfect word- or even creative writing. (Sidenote: If you haven’t checked this project out I was a part of, read it. Go now. This blog will wait).
Anyway. I’ve read a lot of books on happiness (and this was before I was actually unhappy. I’m just someone who likes reading books on anything and reading about happiness seemed like a smart thing to read about. Ditto all those “Survival Books”. You joke, but when the world is ending, I’m going to know how to dilute and drink my own urine and you won’t.) and the reoccurring message is that when you are sad, it’s good to think about others rather than yourself. Which makes sense because when I think about myself, all that comes to mind is “I’m sad. I’ve never been this sad. I’m never going to stop being sad. Rinse, lather, repeat“. Which? If you reeeeeally think about it, isn’t the positive self mantra that ensures an ulcer free existence. So the point of this paragraph is (somewhere all my English teachers collectively began to weep), is that I want to write more.
So… I’ve decided that I’m going to write a letter every single day for the entire year. To everyone. And anyone. I’m really not one thousand percent sure what I hope to accomplish but I figure the following will at the very least occur:
1. I will improve my penmanship. Or should I say.. my penmanship. (For some reason, writing in italics makes me think fancy and end each sentence with ‘oh la la’. Or should I say… ‘oh la la‘ .. okay I will stop.).
2. I will become an expert stamp licker.
3. I will get to show off my favourite purple pen.
4. I will get to show off how poorly I spell without the use of spellcheck.
So this is where I need your help. I know I know (again, teachers are weeping at my excellent writing skillz), 365 people, but I thought it would be nice to open this up to the blogging world. I’ve already started on the 1st- I’m a stickler for rules and I have to say it felt kinda good being nice to others and not thinking of myself each second of the entire day. If you’d like a letter/note, email me your address. I’m not kidding. Sure, this may be a little.. ridiculous but this is cheaper than therapy (a joke that only works for people who aren’t in therapy, which I AM in… BUT STILL). I’m working on getting outside of my head a little and I need a project until I find a support group for bloggers who need creative outlets. (NOT *ETSY). I need to write the letter more than you need the letter, so just send me your address to (firstname.lastname@example.org).
(I thought since I was trying to make my English teachers weep, I should end with that)
(But not really the end. Because I haven’t mentioned Churchill. And the fact that his quote “If you are going through hell, keep going“, was the only reason I got out of bed today. If he was alive, he’d be getting a letter).
(Also to the person who sent me a six paragraph email talking about why I deserved everything that’s going on… fuck you. And you don’t get a letter.)
*I’m not anti-Etsy (in fact, I have a lovely cowl from this shop that I adore). I’m anti- me-creating-etsy-products because my crafting ability is best showcased alongside my third grade class.