And that is how I'm feeling today.
Which makes it sound like I'm upset. I'm not. I'm discombobulated (which, by the way, is a word I have always loved. If folks are allowed to hate on "moist" I'm allowed to love on "discombobulated"). Have you ever had those days where you feel like you're supposed to be doing something, but you can't quite put your finger on it? Not one of those days where you have a check list, and you forgot to get laundry detergent...again...and so you're afraid the mountain by your hamper (because who actually does laundry every time that thing gets full?) might contain actual living creatures soon if you DON'T remember the laundry detergent and do some dang laundry like a real live adult. Not that. Not that I've ever experienced that.
But the days when you look out your window and think, there's something I'm supposed to be doing, and I'm not doing it. I'm having one of those days. I would wonder if I were the only one, but quite frankly Belle sang a song about it, so at least Alan Menken, Howard Ashman, and I are on the same page here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUhOzf0KQXU
Can we all just agree that that song is one of the best parts of the entire movie? It's like 1:20 of my journal, if I were ever disciplined enough to actually write in one.
Speaking of...hi. This is me writing. About nothing. And so much more than nothing. Because so many people in my life tell me I should write. And, because I love writing. But I'm terribly, terribly, shy about writing. True story. And, half the time I have little to nothing to say. It's like my heart is full of a thousand words that all come out like "mfhmschnimanopoly" when I want to start putting fingers to keyboard. So I just look at the screen, shake my head, and click "cancel".
I think I've just changed my mind. I don't love "discombobulated" anymore. "Mfhmschnimanopoly" is so much better. How do we go about making that a real word? Spoiler: I had a completely different title to this blog when I began it.
This is one of those moments. I have literally typed three paragraphs worth of words in this exact spot, and deleted them all. I don't want to sound self-congratulatory. I don't want to sound angsty. I don't want to sound dramatic, or morose, or unintelligible, or a million other things that I fear sounding like every time I write. I just...
I think sometimes I just want to reach over through the internet, lock eyes with someone, and say "you too?" Because I don't think Belle and I have the market cornered on thinking there's something that we're supposed to be doing, that whether it's fear, insecurity, lack of planning, or provision, whatever the deal is, that we're just not doing it.
So there you have it. More than a facebook post, less than a book (thank you Tonia). Life somewhere in the middle. Dreaming in the field, wondering what's past the wind. This blog started out about weight loss...maybe it'll stay that way? Maybe it won't. I. Have. No. Idea.
I have words. I'm Irish...I was born with about 8.4 million words as genetically passed down from one Irish person to another. It's a qualifier for sure. I just have to get them out. And for some reason, people tell me they want to hear them. So...help me stay honest here friends. Maybe I just need to get involved in that "d" word I said up there earlier. The "discipline" of putting fingers to keys and just typing, whether I have anything to really say or not.
Or maybe it's that other "d" word..."dreaming". Nope...that one is scary. Let's go back to discipline.
Mfhmschnimanopoly!!
