Beer and Whine




September 27 , 1999

No picture today. I look terrible in this camera. I think part of it is the light, part angle, part me. Since I don't feel the need to post really bad pictures of myself for consumption of the general public, and I don't want to disillusion all my admirers, who until earlier this week thought I was breathtakingly beautiful, until I get my act together there will be no more pix. Stay tuned. Or, look at yesterday's entry.

For some unknown reason, for the last week or so I have been absolutely consumed with self-doubt, raging insecurity, and otherwise unreasonable feelings about myself.

This applies to me on a couple of different levels.

Am I being the best mom I can be? My temper has been short for the last several days. When you combine this with a husband with a short fuse, and a strong-willed three year's not a good mix. Let's leave it at that.

Normally I think I'm the voice of calm around here. Everyone can get all worked up over whatever, and I'm the one who doesn't lose it. Well, lately, not so much.

And there's this whole journal thing. I have cut back on the frequency of my postings. I haven't had much I feel like sharing.

I made a living as a writer for nearly 10 years. OK, it was copywriting, the lowest form of writing, but still. I made quite a nice living at it too.

Now, I sit down to write and feel like it's all drivel.

Then I read things like this and I'm humbled to new levels. It makes me want to pack my bags, wipe out my URL and go do something else I could be that good at.

OK, then I read the shit out there and I feel so much better about myself. The shit far outnumbers the quality stuff, by like a 9000:1 ratio, so at least I'm in large, if not good, company.

OK, so there are only two things, but there big ones.

Care to come to my pity party? Beer and whine will be served.

Until next time. . .


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