Today, while out with friends, someone mentioned my blog and expressed surprise at how I had completely lost interest in it. I didn’t think much of it and brushed his statement off with a laugh, making sure to immediately change the subject. It wasn’t until much later, when I was home and alone that his words sank in. I hated to think that there was any truth in them. That I hadn’t visited my blog in months didn’t mean I no longer had any interest in it. Maybe I just needed a break, maybe I was extremely busy, maybe I did lose some interest but there was no way I’d agree that I had lost all interest in it. Besides, there were the endless mood swings, the procrastinating, and all, that played their parts, not just in keeping me away from my blog, but in making other goals I had made at some point later seem unattainable. Eager to prove my friend wrong, I called him and promised to put up a blog post before the end of the day. He responded with a snigger, one so loud that I was sure I’d go deaf in one ear, but all that did was spur me on. Although it was already past 10 p.m, I intended to keep my promise. And what better way to do that than to write a post that reveals the true reasons for my lengthy absence. So here, mood swings and all;
I wish, I so desperately wish I were talking about PMS – you, know the pre and post menstrual syndromes women are generally known to have. At least, then, I’d know exactly when to expect them. But no, I’m talking about waking up one morning with the thought of kicking hard at someone or smashing something against the wall or feeling that there’s a cluster in my head so that when someone talks to me, all I do is reply with a scowl that could melt cheese. Yea, that one….it’s hard to say how long I’ve had these mood swings but I certainly had them plenty towards the end of last year. One minute, I was singing out my lungs in excitement, the next, I was hissing, sighing or lamenting about nothing in particular. The former usually signaled bursts of energy, but they were few and far between. On such rare days, I couldn’t wait to get things done. Also were the super cheerful moments when even the loud popping sounds of the gum chewing woman next to me didn’t irritate me, but the latter, which signaled feelings of lethargy, listlessness and tedium, were more common. Everything I did then was a complete drag. I’d get so bored, even when I was up to my neck in work, that I sometimes told myself: “This is it. This is how I die!” It was difficult to write anything then. If I somehow managed to, it was neither worth reading nor sharing. So getting around to my blog at that point wasn’t the greatest of my worries.
Okay, as bad as this sounds, I have to admit that I’m the biggest procrastinator I know. I postpone till the last minute everything, from reading for an exam, checking my mail, to making a call, or even taking out the trash. Yet, I hate it when I have to rush to meet deadlines (if there are deadlines involved). Sometimes, when I learn the hard way – missing a deadline, calling when there’s no longer a need for it, not reading an important mail until it’s too late – I’d be so angry with myself that I’d seem to be on the verge of clawing out my eyes or ripping out my hair. Other times, I’d shed a tear, two or more, depending on how much I’ve missed, or lock myself in my room, drowning in self pity. Then, I’d promise never to procrastinate again, only to drag my feet the very next minute about writing that story I’ve procrastinated writing repeatedly or submitting that project that has long been overdue. It’s crazy, I know, but that’s how it’s always been. The past seven months took the cake though. I almost did nothing but procrastinate so that it took me forever to write anything, even if there was a deadline involved. Of course, there wasn’t any with my blog, so it was just easier to log on to Twitter or Facebook, watch the Crime channel, Investigation Discovery or some other channel that caught my interest, than to write a blog post after a hard day.
Whether it’s checking to see if I locked the kitchen door a dozen times before going to bed; being very particular about the arrangement of my things; or constantly checking my weight to see how much I’ve gained or lost, I find myself always obsessing over something. I’m perhaps one of the most obsessive people you’ll find, except there’s another term for someone who worries uncontrollably about doing her laundry, about the dust bin filling up or about the teenie tiny cluster forming in her ward robe even if it’s just a couple of clothes or shoes out of place. Maybe it’s hard to imagine how this is at all connected with my blog, but when it comes to writing, I worry just as much as I do about everything else. It’s the same way that I can’t help washing a dish ten times over that I sometimes write a piece over and over again. Because a particular sentence doesn’t look right, I could literally spend all morning reconstructing it so that moving on to the next sentence would be such a pain. At this point, I know I’m “stuck”, so I abandon the piece I’m writing till a more convenient time when I’d have better “ideas and inspiration” to write. Only that there’s never a more convenient time, I’d sooner do dishes (the most dreary house chore ever), than get back to a piece or story that I abandoned and got bored with forever ago. Thus, the thought of returning to a blog post I started writing but didn’t finish hasn’t been particularly inviting.
So there you have it, the bad habits, tendencies that I must kick to get back to blogging. Do you perhaps have some habits or tendencies too that somehow often get in your way of achieving things? I’d love to read about them, so share as much as you can in the comment boxes below.