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I’ve fallen out of it, in more ways than one.


I used to be a list-maker, an alarm setter, a strict scheduler. In some ways I still am, that’s how it all starts out at least, but I’m struggling with keeping these to-do lists and schedules. I can blame some of my scatterbrained life these days on the terrible way in which 2015 started off, weighed down by death and depression, but the time to move on is here and I can’t seem to figure out how to get back into life’s routines.


For instance, I JUST deconstructed Christmas last weekend. Anyone who’s read this blog long enough knows that I struggle with releasing Christmas every year, but I’ve never let it get past the end of January before I finally say goodbye to it. This year, I just couldn’t do it. Granted, January was sad enough without making myself sad by saying goodbye to Christmas, but what was February’s excuse? I don’t even know. I had to force myself to make it happen last weekend, torn between being sad to see it go and also disgusted by it’s disorderly state after being up so long. My living room is depressing now, lonely and devoid of any sort of cheer it held just a couple of months ago.


I also joined the gym this year, but do you think I’ve stepped foot in it even once? The answer is no. And it’s not that I don’t want to, I’m excited about getting in shape and finally having the right resources to do that, but I’m either too busy to stop there for an hour on my way home or too tired from being busy the day before. They’re both awful excuses. I need to make this a routine, that I make a part of my life no matter what’s going on at the moment. I’ve gotta take this seriously and not waste 20 bucks a month like I’ve done so far.


The biggest reason I’m reflecting on my lack of routine, though, is because I miss writing. You have no idea how much. I miss having that creative release. I miss my characters talking to me instead of to each other, just making my head a loud, lonely place. Last night I tweeted about this frustration and overall disappointment in how unproductive I am these days and my friends encouraged me to “free write” and “make it a routine.” They’re absolutely right, but I just don’t know how to make it happen anymore. Today I made myself sit in front of the computer all day, rather than read on the couch (which is what I really wanted to do), trying to will my fingers to make the magic happen again, but all I ended up doing was reading through every story idea I’ve ever had and feeling even more disappointed in myself over how great all those ideas were and how they never went anywhere.


I’d like to thrust myself back into GRAPEMO for March, set some goals and try to regain some sort of hold on the routine I used to have where writing was concerned, but I’ve been ignoring the group for months now and, honestly, I feel a bit ashamed about my lack of participation. I’ve become that writer that talks about being a writer, but doesn’t actually write anything. How can I show my face among all those real writers again?


This post is getting too whiny to continue; I’m just hopeful that saying it out loud (or writing it down in this case) will give me some sort of accountability to guilt me into figuring this routine stuff out again. I used to be so good at routine, the makeup for that has to still be a part of me, right?


Wish me luck.