Busy Bee


Pink Think: “It is not enough to be busy. So are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?” – Henry David Thoreau


Photo by hbierau on Flickr

Buzz, buzz, buzz…

Busy is good, right?

Maybe. Not.

My newspaper story came out yesterday, two days after I filed it, and it made the cover page of the Utah section. The editor wants me to be a correspondent. I felt guilty telling him I could do it on an occasional basis, like maybe one article per month, because he was already saying how available would I be, could I do court reporting, etc? I told him I was a novelist aspiring to be published and then I wondered if that even really mattered to him. If he thought that was a serious detriment to my writing for a newspaper.

I hate to sound like an ingrate but sometimes I think there are too many good things in life.

I really want to be published as an author. But look, Mama, look at all these pretty beads in the store!

Like my rock band gig. It’s fun, but I find myself thinking of songs instead of my novel. And because I have so much spare time, I decided to start a blog about it.

These outward things are cool and great, but feel kinda empty.

It’s been a while since I’ve sat down and read a good book, just because…visited my parents…puttered around the garden…

Last night, I just felt so tired. Tired of deadlines. Tired of impressing people with my voice, written or singing. Tired of keeping myself so put together so that one spring doesn’t come loose and start a chain reaction.

If I say yes to one more “good” thing, someone kidnap me and take me to a seaside beach resort in Mexico where no one speaks English.