List of thing I like today:

-My kids ( Ok, so I admit, this is on my list most days ) 

-Bathrobes

- Hot Tea

-Terrariums

-Not taking shitty photographs

Things I don't like today:

-Taking shitty photographs

-Being confused

-Seeing Your Face. It's blinding. No, seriously, 

I made donuts today. I sat around in my jammies, didn't brush my hair. Googled terrariums and kitsch. Procrastinated. 

I try to remain positive most of the time, put a smile on my face, go about my days as if my life isn't a total mess. And maybe it really isn't. Things are pretty ok, mostly. I am meeting goals, something that hasn't always been easy for me. I am gaining more success that I ever thought possible, even if it is on a small scale...and I for once, truly believe that I can go further, take us somewhere else. Imagine a future that isn't this. SO that's something. 

I keep thinking about how much I wish I could go back to this place in my memory. To the library when I was in middle school. The room was old, and smelled amazing, like books. And in the afternoons, it almost glowed. It was in this perfect spot that allowed the light to spill in, making it warm and golden. There were plants, cactus, I think. I sat in the floor in silence. Are You There God? It's Me, Margret. But now that space is gone, it's a depressing lawyers office. The one I used back when I was 20, the jerk. And the library ( in it's new location )  is now this huge sterile space that doesn't glow or feel like a 70's time warp. 

 I am pretty sure I need to go read every Judy Blume book in the house. Maybe after I get today's work done. That and try to figure out why it's so hard to be left staring at my own emotions without feeling the urge to hit the delete button. 

Ghost World.

 For the longest time I have desired to have some sort of online space that I can post things that feel more like me. No bullshit, no worrying about what readers or sponsors are going to think. No trying to be perfect, and feeling like a failure, when inevitably someone's post was better than mine. Somewhere to express my angst and not feel judged that I am more like a melodramatic teenager, than a 31 year old Mom.

Anyway. Let the melodrama begin!

Sometimes I feel so alone, Like literally nothing that I do matters. Like I am sitting and screaming and it's not that no one hears, it's just that no one cares. It was a lot easier to feel like this when I was younger. It's like now that I am an adult, I am supposed to be composed, and not be so self indulgent in my own pity. I relish the days of the 90's. I feel so confused now. It's like, we share more than ever, and it's totally acceptable for me to post on Facebook that I took a giant shit, but not anything real, or personal---though, I feel like everyone tries to personify some sort of fake reality. If that makes any sense.

I am mildly depressed and I want to blog about it. Like a real blog. Full of personal stuff. The blog as I knew it. It's like Latin, a dead language. Though I can't throw stones, I am a professional blogger. The kind that makes money. I killed the blog, but I guess I am here trying to do my public service ( to myself? ) and revive it. At least for my own sake.