I'm fighting my emotions today. I woke up, quite cranky, to the sounds of my alarm at 6:30 am. I didn't want to get up to do yoga, but B persisted. I reset my alarm for 7:00 am. Of course, 7:00 am came much too fast, but I managed to roll out of bed, anyhow. Yoga was hardly relaxing. I still have trouble clearing my mind. I concentrate on my breathing and the stretches I'm doing, and before I know it, I'm thinking about that bathing suit cover I need to get before this weekend, how messy the apartment is, and why didn't B clean yesterday while I was gone? Regardless, I made it through the 20 minute morning "workout." I haven't been fixing coffee because I can't stand the cream we got. I think it's gross. Until I buy the kind I like, there's no point in making any.
B finally crawls out of bed at 8:00 am, with complaints of a backache. He slept all day yesterday. Gee, I wonder why his back hurts? Our bed consists of two mattresses piled on top of each other on the floor. Hardly good for the back, especially when you sleep all day. Needless to say, B was also cranky. His mood always rubs off on me way too easily. So there you go, a double helping of crankiness, topped off with complete lack of motivation to work. That means I'm pretty worthless this morning. For the past hour I've been reading up on LJ, Suite101.com, and thinking about how in the world I'm supposed to get a career started in editing/writing. The whole world wants to write. It seems nearly impossible to get your foot caught in that door. But, I guess as my dad (and, well, everyone's dad somewhere along the line, I'm sure) always said, "Where there's a will, there's a way." I just question my will. That is indeed the wrong way to approach anything.
In my last relationship, I found constant antagonism in my attempts to write about my daily life. Once it was all said and done, there came the request for me to write a book about his life. Really? After all the time of the hostility towards anything I wrote about him, now he actually wants me to write about him. All the sense in the world, I tell you. Of course my response was an astounding NO! But now that I'm wanting to get back into writing again, and therapy is helping me to confront all the bad feelings and memories, I find myself wanting to write about that experience. It honestly made me into who I am today. In the past, it really seemed like nothing to write about. Just another chick living day to day in her early twenties. But after reaching this higher state of mind and looking back on what I experienced, and actually reliving some of those memories in my mind, I wonder how I survived it all. Granted, it wasn't...wait, it was life changing. And I sincerely imagine that anyone who went through this would also have changed somehow, be it better or worse.
Question is, okay, questions are, now that I've moved on and am finally experiencing the life I've always wanted, do I revisit the past? Do I put myself through the grueling emotions, again? What would B think of me writing a book all about my ex-boyfriend? Do I really wanna go there, again?
I've decided I really want to be able to be a "stay at home" mom. I know I'd have to work, and writing and editing seems to be one way I really can stay at home while still bringing in an income. I know I'm rusty, but I do recall some praise from at least one professor once upon a time. I can do this. I just need to find the starting line.