Tuesday, February 16, 2010

failure, procrastination, failure

they are dogging me these days.

And I would like this part of things to be over now, please.

I go to bed at night and think like I used to when I was twelve, or sixteen, or twenty-one.

"Tomorrow will be different. I will be different. I will exercise. I will eat right. I will do what I am supposed to do. I will lose weight. I will be beautiful. I will win the lottery. I will be rich. I will have the fantasy life I deserve..."

I signed up for a Coaching thing online. They sent me a few little tweaky notes, like, "Maria... a gentle reminder..."

I do not like gentle reminders. I rear my inner head at them, like a racehorse flaring its elegant nostrils, full of disdain.

I am obstinate and defiant and it is getting profoundly uncomfortable.

Help, please. I need a dose of focus and willingness to change. I don't really need any more excuses. Yes, I have some things on my plate. A son, a husband, too many tiny part-time work things that I mostly want to avoid. Yes, my husband has his stuff, and my son is five and in school a grand total of 12 hours a week, yes, yes, yes. And.

People work. I need to work. I have work to do. Work people will pay me for. I cannot avoid it. I am not rich. Last I checked, I did not win the lottery. I am not 12 anymore. I will never be an Olympic athlete. I will likely never be a movie star. And all the fantasizing in the world will not lead to change, if action does not accompany it.

So I put out my call to the universe, to god and goddess and spirit and all my ancestors -

please, change me. Help me change. Give me the focus and strength to follow a path, any path that you point me towards. At least help me exercise. Help me write for money tomorrow, at least for a little bit, and then the next day, too. Take the wasting time away from me. Help me be of service.

Please and Thank You, Aho and Amen.


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