Remember me?

 

It's been a long time. No one I know appears to be blogging anymore. In fact, I very much doubt that most people in general are blogging anymore. Now it's all insta and tiktok. That's fine. I'm old. I can be old school about this.

Once upon a time, I wrote a lot. Journaling was part of my routine. I went from paper journals to blogging. And then it all stopped. I can't really pinpoint the slide. It just happened. And years of my life passed. They've been some great years. I'm a mother now. That's different. I'm still close friends with the guy I had started seeing casually over seven years ago. We're not together- and that's absolutely for the best. But he's very much a part of our lives. No, he's not the dad. My girl's got a doner not a dad don't you know.

We've had a global pandemic. The world turned upside down.

The planetary situation gets worse.

Life goes on.

I am trying to work on myself for a bit. This may mean getting back in touch with writing. We'll see.

I've made a good life for myself. I've got a solid job, and my kid. What I don't have are particularly close friends anymore. I miss that. I've got tons of acquaintances. Lots of general friends. But my best friends have all moved away, become distant, etc. It's hard. I get it. I'm probably not the best at keeping in touch either. It feels like they have new lives and friends.  I guess it's good that I've always been pretty used to being on my own. Not that I'm really on my own, caring for a tiny human. But you know what I mean.

I think I stopped writing because things seemed less important. They say as you get older your emotions tend to flatten. For me I think this has been completely true. I used to care a lot about a lot of things. I used to have strong opinions about pretty much everything. Now, not so much. I mean, if pushed, I certainly have an opinion, but I'm not sure I care like I used to.  Although I'm sure that the people I interact with regularly probably still think I'm fairly opinionated! That's okay. I'm not saying I'm a completely different person. But things change.

It could be my age. It could also be a product of the modern age. Everything on demand. On the phone. Stuff is funny for half a second and you move on.  There definitely hasn't been loads to talk about while stuck at home for two years. In 18 months I didn't go more than 5 miles from my house. That sucked. Raising a kid is tiring. Rewarding, but tiring. I haven't read a book in five years. I keep buying them. I mean, I like books. But when I'll read them, I have no idea.

I don't mean to suggest that things are bad. Mostly the opposite. Things are pretty good. Job is good, family is good. I guess I'm not striving for things like I used to. I'm not sure what my goals are now. Keep doing what I'm doing. Raise my girl. Have some holidays. Eat nice food. I'm lucky. I know I'm tremendously lucky. It's not perfect. I don't have everything I ever dreamed, but my life is good. So I find that I'm content. And unfortunately, content just seems.... boring.

I started on this plan that suggested journaling and gratitude as a way of improving yourself. I don't know if I'm down with gratitude. But I thought I could just start by writing. See what happens. Maybe I'll keep it up, and maybe I'll be gone another seven years. Who knows?