Day Forty-Two...A Lot About Nothing

Hi.

Here I sit in front of my computer, my candles are lit, I am looking at the picture of my dad for inspiration. Nothing is coming to me. Why did I commit to writing everyday? Does anyone really care what I have to say every day? Am I doing this for accolades or I am doing this to enhance my creative juices? Hmmmm. I think I do this for me and I do this for accolades. Who doesn't like someone to tell them that they can relate to ones feelings and thoughts? Who doesn't like to make a person laugh, cry, or contemplate? Any writer would have to admit that they want to evoke some sort of emotion in their reader. There is apart of me that gets fulfillment for honoring my commitment and there is apart of me that likes the recognition. It's weird how something starts out and how it evolves into something totally different. My ego (yes I do have one) tells me to check how many hits I am getting om my blog. Some days I get a lot and others not so many. On the days I get several I can tell you that I feel as high as the sky. On the not so many hit days I feel like I have no talent, nobody likes what I have to say and I am pounding my ego into the ground. Why is it that I need people to make me feel like I am accomplishing something? Why can't I be satisfied that I am honoring myself in writing everyday? I tell you why, I want to feel accepted. Are you taking the little violin out and playing a sad , sad song for me?!? "Get over yourself Wolffie" There I said it. I am an ego driven gal...oy vey..it looks bad on my computer screen to see that admittance!! I could zen myself to death. I know that I will always have a little voice in the back of my head monitoring me. I suppose the point about sitting quietly with myself in reflection each day helps that voice send me positive messages. I wonder if I could get that voice to tell me to stop wanting to buy clothes,stop wishing for that Chanel bag, stop eating as much, and exercise more? What fun would life be without some distractions? BORING. So, I will carry on and strive. Maybe that's all I need to do.

Why listen to Wollfie? Because I get it. Whenever my husband would leave town on a business trip, some type of disaster would happen. I would be left alone with the kids to "brave" it out on my own. I have dealt with fires close to our home, the big earthquake, floods and many accidents with my kids. When I was going through chemo, I really did not have much focus. Between the chemo, steroids and anti nausea meds, my head was really foggy.

We were having dinner (my four kids) at our cousins and one of my kids cracked his head on a glass coffee table. It was GROSS. You could see his skull. We rushed him to the ER. It was amazing how my mommy instincts kicked in. My nausea seemed to vanish and I could focus on keeping my child calm. My cousins came with me. We waited a bit for the plastic surgeon to come stitch him (scar is on his forehead). When he went to put the needle in my son's forehead, my big burly 6 foot plus cousin started to pass out. The smelling salts came just in time to avoid him passing out onto the hard cold hospital floor. My other cousin, his wife, said as he was going down "Honey, do you want a Tic Tac" (as if that was going to help him not pass out!!) My nerves kicked in at that question, "Tic Tac. Are you "F"ing kidding me!?!" She looked at me aghast. I must have looked at her in the same way. We cracked up. My son was stitched up in no time. We went to MC Donald's for the milkshake and fries that I promised him (that was his distraction from the pain). Okay so why tell this story? I know that we all could use distractions from our lives..but this one? I think I would have been distracted as easy with a massage.

Can you relate?

More will be Revealed. Please come back for more.

Signing off until we meet again.

In Love and Peace,

Wolffie