Was it waking up in the morning after going to bed past midnight (again) and looking in the mirror to see that the circles under my eyes continue to darken despite the free sample of Kinerase
under eye rescue I've been using? Was it finding out that I'd bounced a check for the second time in a month because I'm not paying attention to my finances anymore? Was it passing my piano for the 10th time thinking, "Gosh, I would love to get the Minute Waltz
back again," and then walking straight over to the computer to check my bloglines? Was it the realization that Husband and I haven't gone to bed together at the same time in weeks because I do all my blogging at night?
I don't know if it was any one of these things or something else altogether, but I am slowly coming to a painful realization:
Blogging is getting in the way of my life.
This is difficult to admit to myself because I have come to love blogging. Before I started this blog, I was aching for a creative outlet and blogging has become that for me. I crave this space. I need
But I can't continue to let other aspects of my life suffer in the process.
The takeover has happened slowly, but it's happening. I no longer read for fun. Heck, I no longer read anything
unless it's on a blog. I no longer snuggle with Husband in the evenings watching videos after Little Guy goes to bed. I no longer exercise. I no longer watch the evening news.
I think about what I could be doing with the 2-4 hours a day that I blog. I could be reading a book, talking with Husband, reading the newspaper, learning to knit, volunteering from home...sleeping. Sleeping, people! I could be sleeping!
But instead, I blog.
And I have to tell you something. I'm not one of those speed readers. It takes me longer than I'd like to admit to read a post and craft a comment. I try my best not to skim through posts. What's the point of reading a post, if you're just reading the topic sentences right? I get a bad taste in my mouth after I've done that. It's not good. Not good at all.
I'm also not a speed writer. In fact, I started writing this post at around 10:30pm and it's now
11:43pm and I'm still not finished. I wish I were one of those people who could write beautifully the first time, but I have to edit and re-edit, molding the words over and over again until I'm finally satisfied. (And even then, I lay in bed thinking, "Oh, I should have phrased it this
way instead. Darn.)
And so, while it shouldn't be, it's all starting to seem a bit stressful. I look at my comments and my bloglines and see all those posts waiting to be read and I have to admit, I get a little anxious. I think, oh, they've been by to read my blog, but I haven't been by to read theirs yet. I have to read. I have to read. I have to write. I have to write. And I have to eat lunch. And pay my bills. And snuggle with the husband. (OK, the snuggling can wait for another day....)
And slowly I start getting this nervous feeling. And that's not really what this should be about. It should be fun. Fun, damnit. But my easily-stressed-out self is not at all surprised that I am getting stressed out by blogging.
But I am.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is that Blogging and I are at a bit of a crossroads.
I know I want to keep blogging. But I need to find some balance here. I'm not sure how to do that exactly. I'm not even sure what the point of this post is. I just know that I have to get a little more snuggling back in my life somehow. Because, in the end, I have a feeling that no matter how much I love blogging, it will be the snuggling I will wish I had done more of.