I'm like a bad boyfriend. Or girlfriend. I write a bit, make promises, get all excited and then? Life takes over and I forget about you. Not even get bored - just completely forget about this blog. And then occasionally when I'm on Ravelry, or I'm blogging on my shared blog, I think, "Dayum, I really should use my own blog every now and again. Or at least stop being shitty and break up with it. It's just not fair to keep stringing it along, posting ever so very infrequently, having the best intention of keeping up with it." But hey, here we are. Just like a significant other that knows full well that s/he should change, and yet belligerently never does, despite their beloved's best efforts; here I am, trying again, and in the back of my mind wondering if this time it will stick.
I certainly hope it does. I constantly want to turn over a new leaf, cast off the things that keep me dissatisfied with life, better myself. Give half a damn at work, keep the house tidy, be organized. Send people birthday cards instead of facebook greetings. Match all the unmatched socks. Put the damn laundry in the dresser drawers instead of leaving it in the laundry basket. Remember to set up automated bill pay so I stop getting hate mail from RCN, PP&L, UGI, and the water department. You know, grown-ass adult things I should currently be doing so my kids know that I am SUPERMOM, On Top Of All The Things, Master of the Domestic Universe, and go-getter modern working woman on the go!
But fuck it. I don't think I WANT all those things. I mean, I want some of them. I want an orderly house. I want to stop getting shutoff notices from the utilities. I would love to not find a laundry basket that's been befouled with cat pee because Josie decided to teach me a lesson about putting away the clothes. I wouldn't mind having a job that I actually get excited about, but if I had some measure of domestic order I might actually not care too much about how I'm paying for it. That would be gravy.
I'm turning 38 in a couple of months. Yet I don't feel at all like I have it together. I have it together enough to make sure my girls have clean clothes, healthy meals, and a lot of love. Generally they know where their toys are, since largely, they're strewn across most of my house (bathroom included). They know their mom and dad are crazy about them, and will support them, but are also not tolerant of misbehavior (there are BOUNDARIES, children!) I have a good relationship with both my and my husband's family. The pets are well taken care of, in their twilight years but still healthy and happy. We have a roof over our heads, food in the fridge, and we all like each other.
Looking on that last paragraph, maybe I don't have it so bad. The important elements are there - family, home, love, food... right? So what is it that has me so dissatisfied? Maybe I'm comparing myself needlessly to some unattainable goal. Maybe people don't really have all their ducks lined up, and we're all just floundering in this world and hoping we don't fail too miserably. "They" do say appearances are deceiving...
And maybe the reason why I never get too far with this blog is because sitting down and confronting the things in my life that I need to change is absolutely terrifying, and on some level I know this, and never get much farther than the "Yanno, things? They ain't so bad" phase. Admittedly, things in my life are NOT as bad as others have it, and for the most part, my problems are first world problems. But assuming that we only get one go 'round on this world (and even if we get more, the chances of remembering it are reportedly slim), why shouldn't I be content? Why shouldn't I do the work inside that needs to be done in order to become truly satisfied with my life?
It might be time to stop being a big chicken and face this.
Tomorrow.
