Five Years

How do you see yourself five years from now?

Five years ago I started this website, age 33, armed with dreams of being a published writer, head full of story, heart full of hope. Now I’m 38, and five years have passed, and the only thing that’s on my mind is: WHERE THE HELL DID THOSE YEARS GO? 2016 WAS LAST YEAR, 2017 WAS LAST YEAR, 2018 WAS LAST YEAR, 2019 WAS YESTERDAY, 2020 DIDNOT HAPPEN.

But optimistic as I am, I renewed my domain name, because I like having a corner of the Internet where I can scream about years that flashed by. The dreams are the same, the hope still intact, the only thing I’ve to figure out is how to stop time from slipping through my fingers.

I hope you are well 🙂

Time Loop

I open my eyes. The day stretches before me like an unwritten text. I do the breakfast-thing, the taking-the-kids-to-school-thing and drive to work like I do every Monday. Once I’m there, I try to shake the feeling of dread holding my thoughts prisoner as I set out to do my work. My stomach demands food every hour because it knows my mind is bored. I do the calls, the documents, the appointments, forcing positivity and reality in my brain. (My job is okay, it pays good money and I don’t really hate it). More than once I think about writing, snippets of text fly through my brain and I wave them away. “Now, is not the time,” I say to myself. Knowing well enough, that NOW is all there is. When the day is done, I drive home to do the grocery thing- the cooking thing- the kids to bed thing and collapse on a chair to dive into Netflix or Prime, after which I go to bed.

Flash forward One week

I open my eyes. The day stretches before me like an unwritten text. I do the breakfast-thing, the taking-the-kids-to-school-thing and drive to work like I do every Monday. Once I’m there, I try

 Well, you know what’s going to happen. I do the same thing I did the week before. My writing dream hunts me, keeps fluttering in my brain but I stay away from it. Barely touching it. A line from Stephen King’s On writing is on repeat in my head. HOW MANY RERUNS OF ER CAN YOU WATCH.

The answer is (shamefully): a lot.

A lot of days flash by, turning into weeks, into months. Into a Time Loop, a prison of sorts I built for myself.

2020 is going to be the year I build myself another time loop. A time loop filled with words, color and story.