Wasteland

I've always considered myself a writer. But a writer isn't a writer if she doesn't write. I can't believe I have gone almost a year without a blog post and even the entries in my journal are sporadic. I am living in an idea wasteland.

I definitely waste too much time. Facebook, TV shows, shopping, games, they all add up to wasted time. Time that could be spent writing or reading or playing music. I haven't written a song or a story in forever. I wish I could say it's like not breathing to me, but I'm also too practical for that. There's dishes to wash, cat litter to change, money to be earned, doctor's appointments to go to, weight to lose. I posted last week on Facebook that I was thankful for my employment, and I am, but what I wouldn't give to have more hours in the day. By the time I cook for myself a couple times a day, clean up for myself a couple times a day, work, go to the gym for a couple hours, shower, put on makeup, have some time in the WORD. I can't leave those things undone. What other time is there?  What other brain power is there? And how people who don't live by themselves get anything accomplished I will never know.

So, here I go again.  Trying to put my thoughts down. Trying to figure out what it is I even need to say. Desperately hoping to find my voice again.