I’ve just had an apostrophe!
(I think I mean an epiphany.)
Every day as I’m driving home, I’m upset that I can’t be using my 1.5 hour commute (one-way) for something productive. It always ends up being 90 minutes of me singing along with Broadway musicals at the top my lungs as a release from the stress of traffic.
But as I was driving home earlier this week, I realized something: now that Siri isn’t a complete idiot, the dictation functionality has greatly improved–now when I say something out loud, she actually knows what I’m saying (gasp!). And since I tend to think out loud and in complete sentences and don’t generally make a habit of proofreading my blogs anyway, I figure I’ll start dictating my blog on my way home. So today, let’s start with the fact that I had a nervous breakdown in the bathroom at work yesterday.
It wasn’t a big one…don’t worry, I’m fine. But for some reason (and probably not at all related to the fact that my best friend just turned 31), I realized that I’m turning 30 soon…well, soon is a relative term, but still. It’s looming ahead in the not-too-distant future and that worries me because although my life has stabilized from the chaos of last year, I still don’t know if I’m on the right track. Whatever that means. The point is, I felt the first time my life the impulse that “by the time I’m 30 I want to be something.”
I don’t know what it is about 30. But I know that I don’t want to be on my way. I don’t want to be a work in progress. I want to be…something. I’m unmarried with no children and nothing tangible to show for my 27 years on this earth. I mean, I have cats, but they don’t count. I didn’t make them, I just haven’t killed them yet.
But I know that by the time I’m 30, I want something that I can hold up like baby Simba and show to the kingdom. So, that means finally committing myself. No, this is not the “I’m ready to get married and settle down” post. It’s the “I’m ready to start taking myself and my dreams a little more seriously” post. That NAAAANTS INGOYAMA YABAGITHA BABA moment? I want it to be me holding up my first book. I’ve made excuse after excuse this past year, but to be honest, I just haven’t been driven to do it. And it doesn’t help that ever since I made the decision to become a capital w Writer, I’ve been tossed around on the sea of life with so many squalls that I haven’t been able to put the time and energy into forcing myself to do it, either. But now? Now I have a good job. I have a stable life (outliers excluded). I’m doing pretty well. But I think I could be doing GODDAMN AMAZING if I just let myself do what it is I came here to do in the first place.
When I’m at the store, when I’m in the shower, the stories weave themselves and the words pile up, but I don’t have the means to stop and let them pour out. But now, now that I realize Siri can be my court stenographer, I can maybe start to put it in the book.
So this is it. The beginning of a new chapter of knowing what I want and giving myself the means to make it happen.
HEAR YE HEAR YE LET IT BE KNOWN HENCEFORTH THROUGHOUT THE REALM THAT THE SPOKEN WORD COMPOSITION OF THE MUCH IGNORED NOVEL HAS BEGUN.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a new chapter to write.
Sent from my iPhone (This was actually included in the note I sent myself, and I thought it was nice touch. So sue me.)