There’s an excuse for everything.
Us young people are fantastic excuse-makers. Well, I’m a fantastic excuse-maker. This blog entry is an excuse for not working. Sigh, so the cycle begins.
The reason I bring this up is because we all have personas that we project to the public, but they’re not all that easy to maintain. For instance, I’m sure there are thousands of people who call themselves “musicians” but have really only mastered the four standard cords that unlock 90% of all popular sing-a-longs. In that case, throw me a guitar and call me Stevie Nicks. Well, OK, realistically call me Alanis Morisette. And then there’s the out-of-college web developers who have coded two functioning web sites, one for a final class project and one for their mom’s craft fair friend. Would you call these people web designers or just people who know how to copy and paste code in the right order?
When I approach the crux of my being – in conversation, on my resumé, online, what have you – I always narrow it down to writing. Me = writer. My goal in life is to get paid to write. I love writers, especially funny writers. And I admire the hell out of authors. The only caveat is that I don’t really write that much. Hell, I don’t even read that much. Who has the time to read?
But! Hey! I have an excuse! You want to know why I haven’t been writing?
My journal isn’t spiral bound.
Really – that’s my excuse. I’m picky about my journals, and can’t stand a thick sloppy stack of papers that can’t fold over itself. Give me a mid-sized, hard-cover spiral bound notebook, and I’ll write you that novel that I’ve been talking about for five years.
So I’m calling myself out, and calling you out too (when I say ‘you’ I’m referring to the Internet because no actual human will likely read this): stop excusing yourself (unless you break wind in public). Go find what’s holding you back, stare it in the face, and then punch it to the ground. Continue to punch until it doesn’t exist. Repeat if necessary. Don’t let your excuses hold back your creative talent.
I’ll leave you, Internet, with an excuse for why I’m ending this entry: my cat is licking my toe and it tickles!