Getting Older

I recently had a birthday, and it was different than any one I've ever had. Instead of celebrating with some big party, I had a ten hour shift at work. After work, I came home and had dinner with my family then watched some TV before going to bed. It was just like any other dull day in my life.

The conclusion that I came to is that I'm legitimately growing up now. I had responsibilities that I had to take care of, so I wasn't able to just run off and party with my friends. It's a bit of a scary thought. This was the most grown-up birthday that I've had so far, so is this what it's going to be like for the rest of my life? Am I destined to do nothing but work and take care of the things I have to take care of and never leave any room for fun? That's just depressing to think about.

When I did end up celebrating my birthday that weekend when I had the time off of work, it was all very chill. I went to visit some friends in the city, but nothing huge. We got a couple dinners, had a few drinks, and went to the aquarium. It was great and I had fun, but it wasn't the crazy birthday parties of my past. However, this year I didn't even want anything crazy. I was perfectly happy with just being with a few friends and hanging out together. Maybe that too is a sign that I'm growing up.

I've always said that I suffer from Peter Pan Syndrome - the desire to stay young and carefree forever. But who doesn't want that? I think that given the choice of being young or having all sorts of real world adult responsibilities, a lot of people would favor being young. This whole getting older thing is a tad bit frightening, but it's something that must get done. Think of what the world would be like if everyone refused to grow up and act like an adult.

This birthday just really opened my eyes to how much has changed in only a year. It was the first time that I've had a birthday and I was not a student, the first time that I've had to work on my birthday, and the first time that I didn't get to see any of my friends on my actual birthday. I guess I could and should see this as the start of something new and different for me. From here on out I'm an adult.

So I should start acting like it, right? I'm not too sure I'm ready for all that yet. People always tell me that I still look like I'm only 17, so there's no harm in being immature every once in awhile. As long as everything that's important gets done, I don't see any reasons why I can't still have some fun in my life. After all, it is important to have healthy balances in life.

Reading > Writing?

Whoever thought that reading would be a problem? I certainly never did, but it's starting to show itself as one lately. I love books, always have, but they've started to take over my free time. Normally, I wouldn't think much of it, but it's been taking away from time I would normally spend writing.

Lately I've been either at work or reading... no writing to speak of. You'd think that someone who just finished school for writing would be surrounded by piles of papers and full of fresh ideas for stories, but that hasn't been the case. I've just found myself surrounded by books, and each trip to the book store is a new strain on my wallet and more time away from my journal.

So is it a bad thing? I could argue (which I normally do) that reading is good for writing. It's no secret that good writers are also good readers, since books let us see what's out there as well as what works and what doesn't. But that theory only works if the writing comes after the reading. Since I've been doing mass amounts of page turning though, and haven't really lifted a pen - I guess I can't use the excuse that reading compliments writing.

Right now I'm working my way through the Sookie Stackhouse Series by Charlaine Harris, and once I'm done with all of those I have plenty more to read. I've recently purchased the complete Chronicles of Narnia, the Sherlock Holmes stories, Lewis Carroll's works, Dante's Divine Comedy, The Portrait of Dorian Grey, Treasure Island, Freud's Interpretation of Dreams, and more that I can't even think of. Plus, there's always the Harry Potter series that begs to be reread at regular intervals.

With that ever increasing pile of books wanting to be read, how can I refuse them? I love my books (even if I am running out of places to put them), and just wish that I could make a career out of doing pleasure reading. Since reading is keeping my mind working, I guess I won't worry too much about my recent lack of writing. If it persists, then I have a problem, but as of now I'm going to go with it. There really is nothing better than curling up with a book after working a day of retail. Should I really deny myself that pleasure?

Get to It!

Real world working vs. my writing. Why must the two constantly bump heads? It's like, I want to write - that's what I went to school for and why I now will be paying student loans off for the rest of my life. However, I'm so tired after working that I have no energy to even think, let alone put those thoughts to paper.

I've started doing my 500 words a day regime, but I've also already started cheating with it. I'd come home from work, worn out, feet hurting, and have a headache, and want do do nothing but go right to sleep. "I'll make up for it tomorrow," is a common saying on those days. But what happens the next day, when I still have to go to work and the same thing happens all over again? What's going to happen is that all of my writing is going to build up and I'd have to make up for it on my days off. That's not what I want though. I want my days off to be my days. Days where I can see my friends or do large projects that involve my writing. While I should be able to do 500 words on a work day, I should use days off as planning days. Days where I can work out plots and try to find places to submit to. If I keep putting my words a day off like this, my days off will just be devoted to playing catch up, and I wouldn't be able to get anything substantial done.

Why couldn't I just listen when everyone was trying to teach me about discipline? Well, I guess that's not fair. I listened, I know what I'm supposed to do, but I can't seem to make myself do it. Maybe it's because I can't establish a routine? Everyone always preached the importance of routines, because they set a precident and establish discipline, but I'm unable to do that. I don't have set hours at work, so how can I designate specific times for things?

I'm just going to have to do it. I've started to bring my journal to work with me and leaving my books at home so that I can write during my break and not get tempted to read instead. The only problem with this plan though has been the distractions. Any time I sit in the back room and get ready to write while I eat my lunch, someone comes back to talk to me. It's like I can't get a moment's peace. Even as I write this now, I've had three conversations with the girls I work with when I should be writing instead of talking. I mean, it is my break. I shouldn't have to answer questions about work right now, should I?

But I can't blame it on them. The responsibility lies on me and me alone. Maybe if I journal about dedication and discipline enough I'll actually learn it? It could be like how I used to study for spelling tests when I was in elementary school- I would just write the word over and over again until I could remember how to spell it. So if I keep writing about how I need to be more disciplined and about how I need to work on my writing at every given opportunity, I'll learn to do it. I can see this plan working out. Especially since if I'm writing about those things, it means that I'm at least writing something. And that's the only real starting point that I need.