maybe I should end my sentences with prepositions

Jason and I went for Chinese food together with our friend Casey the other night: we were all faced with a short time between the end of work and the beginning of after-work work that meant we wouldn't be home for several hours, and I convinced my husband that this was an EXCELLENT opportunity for Chinese food (admittedly NOT his favorite, but he does love me). And while most of the conversation was about Casey and Jason's meeting that evening, Casey turns to me at one point and says, "Angela has been reading parts of your blog out loud to me. You're a really good writer."

At this point, my careful etiquette training allows me to graciously accept the comment without doing That Thing I Do - you know, where I start to flagellate myself and instantly morph into Low Self-Esteem Person and dismiss the nice compliment with something like, "Heh, I'm not that great, you should go read Dooce to read something great."

And then he hits me with the zinger: "You should really do something with that."

Damn these compliments that make me stretch beyond my comfort zone...

I don't know what to say to that, mostly because I think that if I was more focused, more determined, less tired, less distracted... that yes, I SHOULD do something with it. Really I would, except for all that life stuff that gets in the way. You know, eating and sleeping and the day job and the toddler and the Cheerios all over the floor and the groceries and ooh, the sale at Target.

I really do like writing. I hesitate to say love; I love my family, I love to sing, I love to sleep in on Saturdays. These things I prefer almost above anything else. But write? Well, I like it. I like the compliments I get when I write something particularly well. I like being able to move people, or make people laugh, or at least make them think with the words that I write. But even writing this entry took almost a week, and the idea of making writing more than just a passing gig makes me nervous. Life gives me a lot of fantastic material from which I could craft all sorts of tales, but really, at the end of most days when I actually get a moment to catch my breath and think about writing, all I can think to write is either "SLEEPSLEEPSLEEPSLEEP!" or start bitching about something that irritated me, something that probably would point fingers and out the other person and generally NOT be a good idea. And hey, who wants to read a blog about things that piss you off? (Although I gotta say, Twittering about it is a freakin' fantastic idea, as evidenced by this dude.)

But then I start thinking, dude, what if I could write well enough and often enough to make a living off of it? You know, be a full-time writer and everything that goes with it, like the flexible hours and the creative stimulus and the cute little writing-only cottage I would keep in some gorgeous seaside locale? Yessss! I have found The Solution. Because hey, I like nursing and working in the hospital alright, but anything that promises that I DON'T have to rise before the sun is pretty enticing. I could work from home, or the beach, or Starbucks, or wherever. I could spend more time with Aidan. I wouldn't have to be obsessed with customer service. I could be self-aware. I could be one of those highly annoying people who proclaim with a satisfactory tone, "Yes, I am extremely lucky to get paid to do what I love." THAT COULD BE ME.

It could be me, I guess, if I were more passionate about the idea. As all three of my readers know, it's hard enough for me to crank out a post every other week, let alone on a regular basis. If I were more consistent, it could be me, really. But most days, I still just entertain my fantasy that I will randomly run into Warren Buffett or Bill Gates or (even better) Steve Jobs, who will think me the most stunning, witty, most beautiful creature ever he beheld on this earth, and lo, I will not leave my equally handsome/witty/stunning husband for him, but he would still be so moved by me that he would give me half his fortune, JUST BECAUSE I AM THAT AWESOME.

Because the writing gig seems so much MORE unrealistic than that.

Good grief.

So, baby steps are the best start, I guess. I promise nothing, but I am going to try and make a more regular appearance on this blog. You know, writing actual blog posts and not just filling space with borrowed lists and memes all the time. All those funny and/or interesting things I encounter during the day? I'm going to try and keep better track of them, and maybe, just maybe, something might flourish out of them. I'm aiming to get these creative juices flowing a little more, and then I'll entertain the idea of "doing something with it".

But if you see me laughing over filet mignon with the CEO of Apple, all bets are off, dude.