Post Number 240

Post Number 240

I don’t know why I am on this page, having nothing to say.
Acting the adult throughout this day,
Then cut out during the early evening
and let myself play.

Projects already coming due,
That presentation. The paper.
Internship tomorrow,
Then work the next day.

I’m gearing up for busy.
Gearing up, but still not ready
To commit to staying this way.
~ ~

Someone asked me this evening,

“You working on your own story?”

The response,

unspoken, but spoken in my head said,

“Who the fck knows.”

Whatever I’m doing here,

is just something I got to do.

It doesn’t fit this career forming,

the Social Worker,

therapist,

doesn’t fit with this

clandestine writer

scribbling bobbles about her day.

Don’t get me wrong,

I am committed to getting that piece of paper –

that Master’s hanging over my desk.

Yet, I know there is no absolution

for the other half of me

who likes scribbling away –

for all she has to say.

I’m a simple girl.

I can only hold a few

solid

projects happening at once.

School, internship and work

are about all I can handle on this plate,

yet

if I could just refocus this energy

I put on this page,

I’d start writing that story

that’s always brewing in my head.

Hmm.

Then I smile

as I look at my sidekick pile of things

that I need to do tomorrow

and how time just pushed me into later –

resigned to what’s been written

is about all I have in me today.

Until then, I guess this is my story I’m working on.