I like this box of cards with their writing prompts.
The cards are good when you don't have anything front of mind when you sit down to write. As I've got no movie reviews banked up, I've had a job interview today and I'm not due at book group until 6.30, the washing is done and I've hit job boards. I'm nine series down on Grey's Anatomy. The interview went well, but if I don't get the job, and I have to view it that I don't have the job, I have to keep onto the job boards. Such is life.
I've also been in contact with the real estate agency. They were demanding money off me for the delta on the rent. I informed them the rent is not going up until March. I had proof. I was right. Sometimes its good being right.
Tomorrow, I need to go to Bunnings to get paint to paint out the kitchen and toilet over the long weekend. Won't that be fun.
Around the place, the kombucha is brewing and the nuts are activating in the kitchen. I've started Peter Carey's The True History of the Kelly Gang and I should be starting to re-plot the novel I'm putting forward for school in a few weeks.
The cabin fever is starting to hit. I'm ready to go back to work. And school. It's time.
But today's card asked me to writing about what selling out would look like in my life.
Selling out would be me not backing myself.
Thing is, many think that I have sold out already - or I've been selling out for years. I normally work for larger corporations - in other words, I can be perceived to be a corporate prostitute. I sell my services for money. But isn't that what work is when it all come down to it. In a way, I am. But I choose to work where I work for many reasons. Corporates are a valid place to earn a living. Like everybody, I need to work to make money. I seem to get on well bein
g a little fish in a big pond. I can navigate the waters. I'm good at this. Years of practice.
Selling out would be working for mining or gambling companies - they're not industries I'd be comfortable working for.
To me, selling out would be giving up on my dreams and giving up on myself.
I can't see my life without writing. It's something I love to do. It makes me whole. It sorts my head out. It gives me wings.
So this is why I'm backing myself and going back to school. School makes me work harder. School is a place where I like to try to excel and to take myself to the next level.
Giving up on my dreams would be a sell out.
As would trying to climb the corporate ladder. I've done well in my career - but I don't want or need to go much higher. I'm not a corporate high flyer - never have been, never will be.
Selling out for me would also involve not enjoying the things I love. Movies, theatre, reading, exercising, friends. Having to forgo these things would be a sell out. They make me what I am.
I'd make a crappy housewife. I'd probably be a terrible mother. I have trust and commitment issues. I'm always late on weekends. I should give more to charity. I'm a hopeless romantic. I'm a bleeding heart, environmentally aware leftie. I'm addicted to decaffeinated coffee. I love a lot of tomato sauce on my eggs. I'd rather talk to animals than humans. I get bolshie when I'm tired.
But I'm human. I'm me. I'm flawed.
Trying to change these tings would be a sell out too.
Today's song:
The cards are good when you don't have anything front of mind when you sit down to write. As I've got no movie reviews banked up, I've had a job interview today and I'm not due at book group until 6.30, the washing is done and I've hit job boards. I'm nine series down on Grey's Anatomy. The interview went well, but if I don't get the job, and I have to view it that I don't have the job, I have to keep onto the job boards. Such is life.
I've also been in contact with the real estate agency. They were demanding money off me for the delta on the rent. I informed them the rent is not going up until March. I had proof. I was right. Sometimes its good being right.
Tomorrow, I need to go to Bunnings to get paint to paint out the kitchen and toilet over the long weekend. Won't that be fun.
Around the place, the kombucha is brewing and the nuts are activating in the kitchen. I've started Peter Carey's The True History of the Kelly Gang and I should be starting to re-plot the novel I'm putting forward for school in a few weeks.
The cabin fever is starting to hit. I'm ready to go back to work. And school. It's time.
But today's card asked me to writing about what selling out would look like in my life.
Selling out would be me not backing myself.
Thing is, many think that I have sold out already - or I've been selling out for years. I normally work for larger corporations - in other words, I can be perceived to be a corporate prostitute. I sell my services for money. But isn't that what work is when it all come down to it. In a way, I am. But I choose to work where I work for many reasons. Corporates are a valid place to earn a living. Like everybody, I need to work to make money. I seem to get on well bein
g a little fish in a big pond. I can navigate the waters. I'm good at this. Years of practice.
Selling out would be working for mining or gambling companies - they're not industries I'd be comfortable working for.
To me, selling out would be giving up on my dreams and giving up on myself.
I can't see my life without writing. It's something I love to do. It makes me whole. It sorts my head out. It gives me wings.
So this is why I'm backing myself and going back to school. School makes me work harder. School is a place where I like to try to excel and to take myself to the next level.
Giving up on my dreams would be a sell out.
As would trying to climb the corporate ladder. I've done well in my career - but I don't want or need to go much higher. I'm not a corporate high flyer - never have been, never will be.
Selling out for me would also involve not enjoying the things I love. Movies, theatre, reading, exercising, friends. Having to forgo these things would be a sell out. They make me what I am.
I'd make a crappy housewife. I'd probably be a terrible mother. I have trust and commitment issues. I'm always late on weekends. I should give more to charity. I'm a hopeless romantic. I'm a bleeding heart, environmentally aware leftie. I'm addicted to decaffeinated coffee. I love a lot of tomato sauce on my eggs. I'd rather talk to animals than humans. I get bolshie when I'm tired.
But I'm human. I'm me. I'm flawed.
Trying to change these tings would be a sell out too.
Today's song:
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