A LOT is new actually.
This winter, we got a new dog.
Isn’t she a cutie? Her name is Annabelle, she is a little over a year old, and she came to us all the way from the deep south. Frankly, we did not plan to EVER get a dog, but our kitty Pandora passed away over the holidays, and I was weak and lonely and pathetic with grief. And looking at Humane Society Facebook Pages when feeling weak and lonely and pathetic is dangerous to your family size. I fell in love with this shelter picture and ad. (They called her a nearly perfect dog, and they weren’t kidding–she is housebroken, knows about 3/4 of her basic obedience, and loves people, dogs, and kitties, too! She does however know how to clear a room, and she eats doggie beds and boogery tissues and blankets and sweaty socks and muffin papers and other nice fragrant disgusting things she finds lying around.) Annabelle is not just a pretty face however. Her story impressed me more than anything. She has had a crazy but semi-charmed life for such a young thing. First, she was a stray as far as we know. Then she was saved by an overcrowded shelter where she survived parvovirus and a nasty case of whip worms, which is just terrible and amazing. But the shelter had a high kill rate from what I understand, and she was pulled from there by a rescue organization and placed in a fabulous foster home. They taught her about the good life, and when it was time, shipped her off to a much less crowded New England shelter where I saw her photo and fell in love. I begged my husband to let me have her. He was stalwart. No, we are not getting a dog, he said firmly. So I did what any strong and confident woman would do. I cried on my pillow. And she came home with us the next day. She is such a good good girl. We love her so much!
Something else that’s new: I decided that I was tired of moping around and being all emo about not having time to write. I knew that if I could just change a few things in my life that I could begin to get my mojo back. But the truth was that I had NO IDEA what those things WERE. YOU KNOW? No idea. So I got to thinking that if I wanted to get better at planning meals, I’d hire a nutritionist. If I wanted to get better at working out, I’d hire a personal trainer. If I wanted to get better at singing, I’d hire a voice teacher. DUH! So being a genius, I knew this issue wasn’t a writing issue. It was a LIFE issue. You know? I knew I was sabotaging myself and that is a bad, bad, deep-rooted habit that I want to stop. I knew I had to figure some crap out, and that I was going to need some help. So I hired a personal coach 🙂 We have only had one session, but I tell you, the questions she asked me to think about, the insights she raised…woooo…got my wheels turning fast. Lit a fire right under my behind to change some stuff.
One thing I got thinking was about how I keep shoving my interest in grad school under the carpet. I keep telling myself I don’t really need a master’s degree. I mean, I have a job, right? I’ve always felt like I needed a reason to want a master’s degree. It’s expensive, both money-wise and time-wise. I have a family. A full time job. Do I really have the RIGHT to ask for time to study and write? But my coach helped me realize that if I want it, if I REALLY WANT IT, it’s enough. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. I don’t have to know exactly what I’m going to do with it, as long as I think I will do SOMETHING with it.
The other thing I keep telling myself is that I can do it “later”. Telling yourself you can do something later means, in a sense, that you don’t really care about it. Because later isn’t REAL, folks. It hasn’t happened yet! It’s a mirage. At it’s best, it’s a hope or a dream or a plan. At its worst, a worry or a nightmare. But none of those things is actually happening to you in the now. If you’re telling yourself “later” all the time like I’ve been, you’re selling yourself short in the present tense.
So I’ve decided to do a few things to make my NOW a bit more appealing.
First, I’m applying to an MFA program in creative writing that I’ve been looking at for years. The good part is that I DO think I know what I will do with it. I feel ready for the challenge of digging deeper into my own work. I’m ready for something cathartic. And I think I’m also ready for a teaching credential. The program is pretty selective, and the reality is, I might not get in. But even a rejection would be better than saying I’ll do it later. A rejection letter is REAL. And you can do two things with it. You can give up and move on. Or you can try again. Either is better than sitting here spinning through reasons why I can’t. Life is short. Man, the Boston incident the other day was a sad, sad reminder of that. We gotta make the most of it.
And second–well, I’m not doing this…my husband is–my little writing room/home office is finally nearing completion. The floor and the trim are basically all that is left, and he started working on it again this past weekend. We went out and bought hardwood flooring, and it is so beautiful, he is more excited to get it done than before. However, when he tore up the old floor, he discovered that the subfloor needs replacing, too. Which is…ugh…a crapton more work than he had planned. But again, putting it off makes NO ONE feel better.
That is all for now. Sending my love down to Boston before bed.
