She Thought About Getting Rid Of This Title Theme

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That cursed blinking cursor.

"Type. Why aren't you typing? Don't you have anything to say?"

Yes! I do! I have so much to say but I'm not sure how to say it. Whether it's the words, the courage, the mental clarity, it's just not quite there right now. I sit down, I click click click. There's the cursor. It's mocking me. 

"No, no, you take your time. It's cool. I'll just be waiting here. Blinking."

This isn't the right space. This room is too dark. Too noisy. Too hot. Inside. Outside. No WiFi. There's another video of Benedict Cumberbatch being utterly charming I have to watch. Later, I'll do it later. 

I take "write blog post" off my to-do list. It felt more like a responsibility than a task. Each week written down, blinking in it's own way. Reconsider audience (small), purpose (creative outlet), intention (enjoyment of writing). Untether myself to the idea that I have to do it a certain way, that it's a child that needs attention. This is here for me, I'm not here for it. 

The time will be right and the thoughts will form and the words will come if they need to. For now, there's sun and air and a distinct lack of snow. There's an open schedule in which to gently place (not "fill", not "pack", not "fit") friends and movement and exploring. There's no room for "sorry I've been gone so long, invisible reader," creating the illusion of hundreds of faces lit by hundreds of screens hanging on my every word. You probably haven't noticed an absence. I'm ok with that.

Molly Kerrigan