It’s getting a little scary…

Long ago, when I blogged every day, I always kept myself from blogging when I had a story or post or mental-meandering with no happy ending.

Well, that’s not entirely true.  I always had to leave the post with an up note, a feeling of hope, a feeling that things would work out.

I’m not exactly sure why, but I suspect it has to do with my upbringing.  “If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” or “Always help build, don’t just tear down” are prime example maxims amongst many such internal guides that race through my brain.

So, when life started taking some serious turns for the worse about ten years ago, I got lost.  I’d try to post, but I’d get dragged down by unresolved, continuing issues plaguing my life – my father’s aneurysm, ongoing unemployment, piling bills and debt, looming foreclosure…  The list just went on and on.

After a couple of slip-ups in posts, I decided that I was just too worn down by my situation and circumstances to avoid flooding my blog with negativity, so I just stopped writing.  Then, when I tried to write again, I’d feel bad about the gaps in posts, and I’d not be able to continue.

That was, perhaps, the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

Not even one of the stupidest things, the stupidest thing.


Now, I find myself in a very similar situation to that set of circumstances around the turn of the millennium, and I’m repeating past mistakes.  Withdrawing, ostensibly to save money, while trying to ride out this down-turn is seriously hampering my ability to find re-employment.

As things keep piling up, from furnace-meltdowns to multiple car repairs, and problems with lost data and lengthy recoveries, as well as late bills, missed mortgage payments, disappointing interviews, lack of follow-up from recruiters…  I kept climbing deeper and deeper into my shell.

Quite honestly, I didn’t think my shell was that deep.  But, apparently, there’s several sub-pantries and basements.  Color me surprised.

Anyway, retreating is the exact opposite of what I need to do.

Because people don’t always need happy endings to stories.  People don’t need to be built up by my words.  People just need their stories.

I’ve been following Neil Gaiman on Twitter for a few years now, mostly out of Minnesotan-pride for an author of his skill and caliber consenting to live in my home state, partially because I enjoyed the Sandman series, and then the fact that he records his own audiobooks…

Anyway, recently there’s been a marked uptick in the mentions of his “Make Good Art” speech.

Of course, I watched it.  Then I read it, because it’s directly below the video, and because I really wanted to chew on some of the words for a little while.

And he makes a damned good point: “And now go, and make interesting mistakes, make amazing mistakes, make glorious and fantastic mistakes.”

I’ve been making mistakes, but they haven’t been particularly amazing, glorious, or fantastic.

Just been making mistakes.  Well, time to change that.  So, I’m off to recreate my resume as a more “bulleted narrative” style of story, while eating tater tots.

And, I think I should probably set a calendar reminder to write a blog post every night.

Thanks to those readers who have been popping back.  Hopefully I’ll be able to regain readers as time passes, but I’ll keep writing, regardless.