I’m tired of the mundane.
I’m thankful for my husband, children, family, friends, even my daily tasks, but it seems so mundane to write about. And the “big” issue isn’t up for writing just yet.
(No, I’m not pregnant… for those curious minds.)
It's frustrating. I feel like I’ve hit a wall. What I do write feels silly and ridiculous compared to real life. I want to write fiction so I don’t have to feel the need to write the autobiography I should.
And even looking back over what I’ve just written… way too many “I’s” in there. That’s just the point.
It feels like I’ve lost the touch. The ability to put words to my thoughts and feelings, describing events and pointing back to the important things… it’s gone.
Don’t know where it went. Maybe it’s covered up by something else.
I have no idea, but that’s why this blog has been silent as of late.
So this is me... I'm still dancing, but it's slow-going.
How's your dance?