Mission Statement

I wish I was a writer. I have realized through my life that wishing really doesn’t do anything for you though. Believe me, I can’t tell you how many times I have wished and prayed to win the lottery and one look at my pathetic checking account will show you that has SOOOOOOO not panned out. At. All.

Either way, I have realized that practice makes perfect. The difference though, is I usually hate the practice part. I am not so good at the whole, “wow, I really suck at this but I am going to get better so just buck up woman and keep trying” part. What can I say, the Little Engine that Could was probably not a story my parents read to me as a child. I am too impatient. I am all about the immediate gratification. Which hasn’t been something that has really panned out for me either and probably has a tiny little something to do with the state of my checking account. (Dear God, please let me win the lottery. Soon. I have shopping to do.)

I am going to try this blogging thing. As practice. Because I honestly think practicing writing will be something that I will enjoy versus, oh, I don’t know, practicing anything else I have ever tried because I have an attention span equivalent to that of a red ant.

So, there is my mission statement. Write. Write. Write. Practice. Practice. Practice. In the meantime, I hope that I can get some of my thoughts out there. Get them out of my head so that they don’t bounce around incessantly causing me to fret over them until they drive me crazy. Especially since when something is driving me crazy it will ultimately affect my relationships when I create a mountain out of a molehill. (Reason I am probably clinically mentally retarded #1: I actually wrote that first as a mole hole out of an ant. Don’t ask. I don’t even understand what goes on in my head most days. I started off on a tangent about what on Earth that really means and how is it possible to make a mole hole out of an ant. Then I wised up and googled it.)