Ferociously Observant

It’s not who you are that holds you back, it’s who you think you’re not. -Anon.

My Little Pest 27 May 2008

Filed under: Career — ferociouskater @ 1:29 pm

That nagging demon of doubt is tugging at my pantleg again.

You can’t be a writer, look at you. You can’t even make yourself sit down and write every day.

I write. What do you think I’m doing right now?

You’re farting around. You’re writing a blog post about an imaginary demon that won’t let you write.

Well why don’t you go away, then?

Because this is my job, to try and make you believe you will never be able to do this for a living. I don’t necessarily like that it’s my job, but it’s my job nonetheless.

You should quit if you don’t like it.

I’ve thought about it, but with a little one at home and another on the way, the pay and benefits are really too much to pass up. I mean, I like you and all, but I have to think about the security of my family. Sorry.

Couldn’t you at least take a couple paid vacations when I really, really need to hunker down and write? Like when deadlines are looming or something?

Depends. What sort of compensation will you give me for not heckling you?

Your normal hourly rate, plus I’ll throw in a fruit of the month club.


Finally, there’s silence. Then,

Nope, you know what. I do enjoy this too much. I’m sorry, you’re going to just have to put up with me. Now, which fruit do I get first?


Box it or pitch it? Well, I don’t have to unpack if I pitch it… 18 May 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — ferociouskater @ 7:03 pm

I almost wonder if nuns and monks decide to live a life without material possession not because of their faith in God, but because they have packed and moved one too many times.

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Time 14 May 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — ferociouskater @ 3:06 am

“Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.” -Dale Carnegie

I spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about the future, time that could be spent actually planning for it. I have no excuse for this, other than perhaps that I am both female and a product of a very worrisome mother. I know that I get unnecessarily anxious. I know that usually the source of my anxiety never comes to fruition. Yet I still let the worries sweep over me and ruin any chances I had of enjoying any particular moment.

For example, the night before we left for vacation I was extremely worked up over whether or not I would get to spend time with everyone I wanted to see. In fact, I slept only one hour that night, which makes the fact that I went to bed the next night around midnight only a smidge away from a bona fide miracle. Time is probably the subject that causes me the most anxiety. I can easily forget that I am young, have many experiences ahead of me, and especially that I am in charge of my own life. If I want to make time to do something or see someone, I can and will as soon as I have the opportunity. I don’t have to wait for a cosmic invitation or a serendipitous sign from above.

And just as knowing all this didn’t help me the night before Cayman, it seems to be helping less now that we are home. I don’t see the new opportunities presented by change, I only see how it will rob me of valuable time. So until change occurs, I feel I must do absolutely everything under the sun to make sure time is not wasted. This can be a good attitude to have, even Shakespeare would agree, but it can also set me up for utter disappointment. I have to find a balance between seizing opportunity now (and not letting “time waste me”) and remembering that most experiences are only your last if you let them be.


Everything has changed. Everything is strange. 11 May 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — ferociouskater @ 2:37 pm

Vacations are funny in that a lot of times, when we go someplace far away that is so different from our own home, we get back and everything seems a little different. Maybe we have trouble sleeping in our own beds, we have to get used to the sounds of a settling house at night, and even things that used to come easily (like driving on the right hand side of the road) come slowly back to us like we are waking from a strange dream. Most of the time it is the break in routine that occurs when we travel that creates this “otherworldly” aspect to our own homes when we return, and we are back to normal within a few days.

I’ve never had a problem with reintegration after a big trip. A couple days rest, getting back to work, and finally unpacking the last item from the sandy suitcase usually does it for me.

I knew I would be returning home to boxes half-packed from our move. We are closing on our first house on the 15th, so naturally we won’t have much time at all to settle back here. I don’t think I realized how close the move came before we left for Cayman, and now I’m wondering if I couldn’t have been more prepared. But regardless, I know that a couple weeks in the new house, with a backyard and my own study, will have me settled in (even if not totally unpacked) in no time.

But this time it’s different. I return from the island and find that everything has changed. Everything will change. And the last semblance of normalcy I had before coming back to what I can only describe as Bizarro World was on that island. I’m having difficulty seeing my previous comfort zone as comforting any longer. Coming home didn’t feel like returning to any home I remember.

I want to go back.

Good old Will rings in my head, with his winds and tide, but I am only slightly comforted in the knowledge that this different world that will unfold over the next few months will become my comfort zone. Tonight I can only look at my dogs as foreign beings, jump when my fridge starts whining, and wish with all my might that I was back on the beach, under the stars.

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