Sometimes I don't find my daily life to be all that exciting which would explain the lack of posts recently. It's like, hmmmm...wake up, feed the cat, brush my teeth, shower, get dressed, say goodbye to Jeff, listen to Coldplay on the way to work, get coffee, arrive at work, say hi to Steve, Mark, and Melissa (cubemates), talk about the cat (still a new subject), respond to RFPs, harass Diana on IM, ask Nate questions about our programs, go to crazy busy cafeteria for lunch, respond to RFPs, drive home, feed the cat, say hi to Jeff, go on elliptical, shower (again), read, watch TV, go to bed, repeat.

Occasionally I'll have a meaningful conversation during the week but most of my day consists of witty banter and lots of eye rolling (me). It's fun but not truly worth writing about. Although...in my book club, we just finished reading "Bitter is the New Black" which is basically a memoir about this girl's life during her two year period of unemployment. I told the other girls that I would love to be published someday, but that my journals throughout the years were written about mundane subjects (similar to the tone of this blog).

How do you take a 7th grade break-up and make it resonate with your audience? Do you have to embellish certain details or even fabricate parts of your "memoir" to capture the reader's imagination? When I write about my life, it seems false to me to add intrigue that wasn't originally there...for example, my parents have a happy marriage. Jeff and I never broke up in the eight years that we've been together. I went through the same teen drama and crappy parent/teacher conference conversations as the next person, but does that truly provide valid material for publication? Well, it's my life so I would love to think that it does, but when it comes down to it, despite all my own quirks and experiences, I am merely living a similar existence to many other women out there.

I really don't know why I have always had this desire for people to read about my life. It makes no sense to me because in general, I'm not big on being the center of attention. In fact, I hate when everyone is staring at me or giving me compliments (really, my face turns the color salmon, as someone described it just yesterday). When I read my old journal entries, I see a bright, observant girl--somewhat of a dork in the earlier years, but I guess my favorite part is that reading the journals allows me to follow this "character" through life as she experiences things for the first time. Even though I am the "character", I am far removed from her because she is not truly who I am anymore (if that makes sense).

I've mentioned before that what is real fascinates me...people's thoughts, what drives them, what makes them crazy...and as we all know, my obsession with all things real occasionally gets me into trouble. And anyway I'm not quite sure where I'm going with all of this, but I have to keep writing or I'll lose the ability altogether. I used to be better at it. My pen used to fly furiously across the blank pages, and I miss that feeling of release that used to come from pouring my heart out in my journal. That could be the other reason I want people to read it; I know it's supposed to be for you, but I put so much time and energy (literally years) into writing it that it seems pitiful to just throw it all away.

I don't know. It's a constant debate, and not one that's going to be settled tonight.