Perfection, schmerfection

I hate that I’ve been so lax in posting to the blog. Our third anniversary came and went and I didn’t even drop by. The honeymoon phase is officially over.

I think about the blog a lot. I consider topics, take photos, I feel guilty, but I don’t ever quite make it to taking action on anything. I’ve even written drafts and gotten to a point where either I started questioning myself, worrying about what someone was going to think, or wondering why I should even bother when I’ve neglected the few readers I did have to the point where I’m sure no one even checks any more.

Then, someone will check, and they’ll make a comment to me about it. Which doesn’t make me think, “Oh hey! There are still people who read the blog.” Instead it makes me feel like an inadequate slacker, which only leads to more procrastination and excuses for why I’m not writing as consistently as I’d like to.

The thing is, as we all know, I have issues. I have guilt issues and procrastination issues and I even have a pair of socks that reads, “I have issues.” (Thanks, Mom!) A big issue I have when it comes to posting to the blog, or even writing in general, is that I am a huge over-thinker. I analyze and re-analyze and question and worry about things as trivial as whether to use “also” versus “too” in a sentence. I make myself crazy, ultimately because I’m terrified of being judged.

Which leads me to some news. I just attended a writing workshop with real live writers, one of whom was published even, and I … read out loud. That’s right. We were in a workshop and there was this insta-writing assignment where we had to describe a moment from our childhood. I wrote this quick story about peeing my pants (and the seat of my desk) in 2nd grade and then when she (the published one who was leading the workshop) asked for volunteers to read I raised my hand and volunteered to read out loud. And that was after the super cool black dude in the pimp gear and Gucci shades read his polysyllabic 5-sentence memoir that was unbelievably eloquent for having been done in less than three minutes. (Get it … unbelievably? That’s right Super Cool Black Dude. I’m calling bullshit. What?)

I was blushing and shaking and could not believe I was doing it, but I sat there and read my pee story to a room of New York writers and I hardly even edited as I went along. I let it be what it was and I put it out there and I got a laugh, and because I hadn’t quite gotten to the peeing part when time was up, the published workshop leader, author of a memoir about her years as a professional dominatrix (i.e., cool), made a little scene about wanting to hear what happened next.

The point of all this is, I’m gonna give this “letting it be” thing a shot because I need to write. Not every post is going to be brilliant, but they’re not all going to be stupid. And unless I write them, they don’t have a chance of being either.

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This entry was posted on Thursday, November 11th, 2010 at 2:55 pm . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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