So it turns out I suck at this whole blogging thing. I can make up a dozen excuses why it's been so long since my last post, but excuses are for pussies, so you won't hear any from me.
Basically, I just suck at putting aside time to write. I mean, I spend eight hours a day, five days a week writing, so by the time I get home from work I just don't feel like writing.
When I was younger, I was really passionate about it. In high school and even elementary school, I had these amazing journal entries. They were full of meaningful details about all the boys I liked, what I did that day, who was dating who, who was cheating on who, who I hated -- you know all the important stuff. But somehow in the last four years I have stopped writing a journal and have basically stopped writing all together -- except, of course, for school assignments and job related junk.
In light of this, one of my resolutions for 2011 (despite the fact that I hate New Year's resolutions) was to write for pleasure every day... and I'm failing miserably -- hence why resolutions are stupid.
I think part of the reason I'm so resistant is because of my parents.
Whenever we talk, they ask if I've been writing. My dad tells me time and time again that at the end of the day I should really sit down and write. I should describe the facial expressions and mannerisms of people I work with and hang out with, he says.
"That way when you write your book, you'll have notes to look back on."
Apparently it's a given that I'm going to write a book.
My dad seems to think that my adventures across Canada are worthy of a novel. I, on the other hand, think writing a book would be far too much work and would require too much discipline. Plus, who wants to hold the same train of thought for months or years.
I mean, I picked journalism for a reason -- you get to become an expert on something in a matter of hours and then forget it. It's a beautiful thing.
I've actually been thinking a lot about my chosen profession lately.
It's officially been a year since my first newsroom experience as an intern reporter at the Kelowna Daily Courier. Back then, reporting was so exciting and new.
Although it's only been a year, I feel like the excitement has really worn off. The butterflies are still there if I have to do an interview about a touchy subject, but overall, work is pretty blase.
It has me wondering if this is what I'll end up doing for the rest of my life or if it's just going to be a phase. It kind of freaks me out to think that the goal I've had since I was 15 has come to fruition and now I'm unsure about it.
Maybe I'm just going through my quarter-life crisis. Have you read about that?
The first time I read the Wikipedia entry I was in J-School and it made me cry. I was like, "OMG they're describing everything I'm feeling. Maybe I'm not going crazy. Maybe I'm just like everyone else -- a mess!"
Well it's been at least eight months since then and I'm still a mess. And what I'd like to know is how long these crises are expected to last. I have to say I'm over it. And I'm ready to start preparing for my midlife crisis, you know, the one where you get a fancy car, or get botox or go on exciting trips. That sounds a lot more appealing.
Maybe when I'm 50 I'll be like Julia Roberts in Eat, Pray, Love. I'll eat until my pants don't fit, travel the world and leave my husband behind. Maybe I'll even become spiritual or something.