Where's Our Balls?

I had the most horrible conversation with my boss today. He and I were just chatting for a bit after he answered a couple of my questions, talking about some of the bullshit Korporate Amerika policies that he has recently implemented since taking over the department at The Place Where I Work*. This man, who by the way has a college degree and is suppose to be "qualified" to make decisions, tells me that sometimes you have to "drink the Kool-Aid that they are serving, even if you don't like the flavor."

Yes you read right. In effect, my boss used a Jim Jones (aka The Peoples Temple) analogy in trying to get me to conform to his vision for the department.

I hate that kind of thinking, and I hate that I work in a place where this frame of mind is becoming the norm.

Wow, you know I've been sitting here for almost half an hour trying to put my thoughts together to write this post, and it's been very hard for me. Now I mentioned that I haven't written in a while in my last post, right? Well I'm finding out the hard way that writing is like a muscle. When you don't use it for a long time it atrophies. So I'm finding this new self-imposed exercise very difficult, and that's hard to swallow. A year and a half ago the ideas would have been bouncing around my head while my fingers flew over the keyboard. Now the words come in little bursts with long pauses between.

I commute about an hour each way to the office each day, and both to and from work today I thought about this blog, writing and what I wanted to do. I'm determined to become a published author. But finding it so hard to do what use to come so effortlessly to me is very disconcerting.

Why did I stop? That's the only question that bouncing around right now. I mean yes we moved, my husband's mom died, I got a new high pressure job, and then I got married. But those who have a true dedication to the craft manage to do all of that (and more!) while continuing to write. And I let it drop away.

Some of it was fear. I can see that clearly now. I believe that I was getting good at this and I was afraid that I might actually succeed. Sometimes it's easier to tell people that you want to be a writer than it is to actually be one.

And some of it I know, was the fact that I had a very hard time adjusting to married life. Not that my husband is hard to live with, or overly demanding (well no more than any man really!), but just the fact that he was there was a hard adjustment for me. I lived alone for five years before we started living together, and I found it hard to acclimate myself to the fact that no, he wasn't going to go home and give me some alone time. I got use to it, but it did take quite awhile. It was also very hard for me to be comfortable with sharing the decision making process with him. I was use to calling the shots, and making any decisions on my own. So having to consult with someone was new territory for me.

Any type of distraction has always been a big deterrent for me when I write. I've always been the writer who couldn't listen to music, or have the T.V. on in the back ground. I always turned my phone off when I was getting ready to write, and even the neighbor's in my apartment building could break my concentration enough to making writing impossible.

And now, when I'm struggling so much with just trying to get a post in (something I could have done with no hesitation two years ago) when the hubby comes in like he did just now to give me an update on one of our kitty babies (yeah, we're those kind of pet owners!) who hasn't been feeling well all day, it just blows me out of the water.

This is majorly upsetting to me, and something I will have to work on until I've overcome it. I see now that I have a lot of ground to cover just to make it back to where I once was. But I'm determined.







*Now you really didn't expect me to mention the company name, or what we do did you? Although it might be a great way to get some hits!