brand new year

I don't have any new year's resolutions. I always break them anyway. I'm not good at planning and making goals and that sort of thing. I'm more of a wanderer -- wherever I end up, I end up, although I do have to say that the older I get, the less the unplanned life is enticing. I would like to settle down, but I'm not sure I know how to do it. I stay for a while, and then I get restless and claustrophobic, and it's time to move on. I don't go far, probably because I'm not all that adventurous or confident.

I've made many a big mistake in my life which I've paid for dearly, almost with my life a few years ago. I'm still trying to like myself, to believe that I'm enough just as I am, that I don't have to be glorious and famous and all that jazz. I've always wanted to be a writer, but for some deep dark reason I find myself doing all sorts of other things instead, like knowing you have to clean out your closet but there are too many other things looking soooo much more interesting, even if it's just watching some dumb movie on Netflix. (Stupid analogy, but it's all I can come up with.) 

I think I have a talent for writing, but then I think so do so many other people, and they're published. And I'm not. Okay, I haven't really tried. How can you publish when your stories and poems stay hidden in a notebook in a file cabinet? Don't know many literary agents and publishing companies that are going to come knocking on my door, saying, We heard you can write. May we see what you've got locked away in a box in your attic? Yeah, yeah.

My big problem (and it's probably just a big excuse) is that going out into the world wears me out. I write stories and other things when I'm unemployed or in school. But I like to have a place to live, clothes to wear, food to eat, a car to drive, so I have to work. Poor little me, right? 

Okay, I'm gonna make a resolution -- write, little girl, write in 2021. There it is. Hold me to it. And not just here and there, but every week. I'd say every day, but I know I'll fail in that endeavor. Some days it's all I can do to just breathe and put one foot in front of the other.

Write, little girl, just write. That's all I have to do. Not too difficult, right? 

Woman Writing - 1898 - by Lesser Ury