“Blog entry.” 

“Blog?”

Really? Do you mean for other people to read… blog?

Do people even read blogs? I sometimes do, but I will admit to being that person who looks at the length of a blog entry and decides.  Awwww, too long..pass. So how do I get someone to read my blog? Ummm. If I were making a video, I’d post a catchy title that has nothing to do with the actual video and post an irrelevant thumbnail for clickbait, or I would make sure to write, “watch to the end.” But this ain’t YouTube, and I don’t want to be that person, or do I?  Read to the end.

You see, For me, the writing process is a routine. Ok. Ok. I know you may be saying, “wha? wayyment.” Yep. This body knows the drill. It remembers. 

Writing. 

Do you mean like for other people to read, writing? For real for real? That’s a space I don’t feel like I belong. My writing is juvenile, simple. This is what I tell myself.  Every.  Single.  Time. I should be familiar with this feeling by now and mastered how to handle it.

Nope. 

So, when I hear “your first entries are due yada yada yada.” My routine begins. My thoughts start to swirl with great ideas. That is great in my own mind. It’s just the beginning of my tensions. Even though I tell myself,” positive affirmations only. You know you will get it done. I’m not going to go through this again. I’ve been doing this for a while. I got this.”

 Ahhhhhh no. I don’t.

The tensions begin in my body. Anxious. Accelerated heart. My jaw starts feeling the strain. So by the time I sit down to start writing, and I know what I want to write about, that damn opening sentence just won’t manifest itself. My neck is beginning to feel the tension. If I can just get that opening sentence, my world will be ok. Right? Ahhh, if you say so. I walk around, go out, eat, yell at my kids. Anything to try and relax to get those creative juice flowing. Finally. But I’m in the car, and I don’t have anything to write with. I scramble through the car, looking. I find a pen. Make a mental note to put a pen and pad in my car…for the next time.

 No paper!

 I write on a body part.

Now I’m writing. Thoughts flow like a Tupac rap. Well, maybe not Tupac, but you get the picture. This body remembers just how good it feels to sigh in relief when you have written something, read it, re-read it, tweak it, and you can finally …exhale because it’s done. I need to count the words. Oh shit. Let me go back and add another ‘yada.” Just to be safe. My body is still tense. ‘I’m done! I can’t write another word.” I’m thinking, “I’m just gonna send this. To hell with the errors. I’m ok with the less-than-perfect piece I write instead of the perfect one in my head that I just can’t get out.

Whew. Done. I stand up,  walk around. Procrastinating. Watch a PassionFlix movie.

Can I make this better? 

No, wait. You. Are. Done.

But can I make it better?

No, it’s never going to be perfect.

But..but..NO! Just send it.

My hand hovers over the mouse, tensions build. Why? The body remembers. I am that balloon being stretched. I hear it. Finally, one last F**k it!…hit submit. 

Done. 

And just like that, tensions…gone. Well, almost. You know what I mean. I can breathe. The body remembers. Instant gratification. All because you clicked on submit.

So remember when I told you to hold on to the end. Now you are at the end, and you are probably saying to yourself, I just wasted 10 mins of my life I cant get back. If this were on social media, I would have just skipped to the comments. But Did you really waste 10 mins? Or can you use the comments section to not only curse me for wasting your time with clickbait but it can also count towards your 10 replies.

Be well

•