I avoid writing on this blog just like I avoid writing in my journal or finishing some writings that I started. Did I mention letters, too? Yeah. Easy to avoid them. I am a writing avoider. My excuses are vast and lame, and are interchangeable among the aforementioned creative outlets.

1. I don't have time.
2. I'm not really that interested in writing.
3. I don't have any talent for writing.
4. I'm too tired.
5. I don't have anything to say.
6. I'm boring.
7. Who would want to read what I write, anyway?
8. It's my life. I can waste it with Seinfeld reruns if I want.
9. I don't care about it.
10. I don't want to.

Wow, sort of my own Top Ten List, huh? Top ten reasons why Linnet is inconsistent, at best, with the writing thing. Only, if Dave were reading this on his show, I think I'd have to reverse the order, put the "I don't want to." as number 1. Good ole' Dave.

While I wait for my squash to bake (yes, I did come home by way of the grocery store, tonight. And, even though I'll be eating late just so that I make sure I eat the food I bought to prepare, I will be getting some vegetables and good-for-you protein. Hurrah me.) I force myself to sit at my computer and type this here blog. What's with me, anyway? I WANTED to start this blog. I TOLD people, three people--no, FOUR people--about it. This means that on a very obvious level, I have a desire to blah blah on my blog blog and for these words to be read and, possibly, enjoyed. It's supposed to be practice, in some way, to keep me active, creatively. At least, that's what I've been telling myself. hmmmmm...what is it really?

Is it, perhaps, ego? I've been on a where-is-my-ego-in-me? kick for a few days, now. An episode at work--poor decision making on my part--has prompted me to ask the question, "Why would I act in such a way, knowing that it was not in my best interest?". Occurred to me that the pervasive "I" and "mine" ruled over any other thoughts, at the precise moment the words "Of course we can do that for you." left my mouth. I KNEW that I hadn't the right to make that decision without first asking my boss. It was a gross trespass of her trust and respect towards me. Ugh. (This seems like a random segue from the beginning of this entry, but this is free form, right? Besides, there's a connection. Truly. At least I think it's connected. Yeah. It's connected. I continue.) Up until the other day, I really think that I was egotistical enough to believe that my actions were not ruled by my ego. Omigosh, am I an egotistical ass for simply HAVING that thought, or am I? Well, no more. I accept that ego is a part of my every day, and not just when I'm in headstand and suddenly think, "Holy crap, I got it!" right before I tumble to the ground. It is everywhere. Sometimes stronger than others, but it's there.

So...what to do....ummm, well, I haven't gotten that far. I'm still in these early discoveries, see? And I admit, I find it a touch depressing. Having to look at myself and notice aspects that I'm not proud of, and wanting to address them so that, at the very least, I can begin to evolve. I guess this is what we do as we get older, huh? Confront the demons we've been ignoring for 31 years?