Margie's Feeling A Bit Crazy Today

Alright. Maybe I am a little worried about this. I mentioned it my last post (two posts ago, actually) but I’m back at the computer because I want to actually write about this this time. Then, there will be no debate. Maybe it’s just because I’ve written a hundred some odd entries since I started doing this a few years ago. Maybe it’s just because I’m getting old. My it’s because there’s been a cold, sharp wind blowing through lately and it’s making everyone, present company included, a little crazy. People always connect hot wind with craziness. But cold wind can do it, too. The hot wind makes the world feel like it’s expanded and then shifted a little bit diagonally, so you start to feel like you’re walking on an angle, trying not to fall downhill. And hot wind brings bright orange. That adds to the wooziness. Cold wind, like what we’re getting now, comes with a sharp daytime yellow that only lasts for a few hours a day, but it shrinks the world down into a frozen prune and this particular wind is making me get inside my head:

Have I Written All Of This Before?

I think I have. But I really don’t know? And continuing to ask (myself) hasn’t been all that helpful. I have a vague recollection of doing every/some-thing. I’ve written about tiny bunnies. About Wikipedia. About Bill. Mom. High school. Geez. Forgetting. Remembering. This all reminds me, oddly, of a type of dream I have a lot. It’s a dream where I’m laying in the bed that I’m actually laying in, in the same room, under all the same conditions, but I can’t sleep. It’s a dream where I can’t fall asleep. And then I’ll wake up, in real life, and have no idea if the laying awake was real or fake or both. What’s especially annoying is that those dreams are the easiest ones to slip back into once you do actually wake up and once you actually can fall back asleep.

Maybe I need a system. Or an assistant. Any applicants? Part time. Probably something less than minimum wage for pay. Probably no pay, really. Maybe a sandwich or something for lunch. A sandwich and a bag of chips. An Uncrustable and a bag of chips. Even though I’m sure that sounds enticing to everyone out there, maybe I should abandon the assistant search and do the heavy lifting myself. A…what’s the word…a retrospective. Maybe? A look back.  An exploration of “what Margene’s Blog has meant to Margene.” Sure, the on the surface reason for this is to maybe press reset on my brain and, at least for a little while, not have this terrible feeling that I’ve written everything I want to write one or more times before. But I’ll expand the goals and maybe try to learn a little bit how I’ve…umm…grown as a writer. Can I call myself a writer? I guess I’m just a blogger. I think you might have to get paid to be a writer-writer, right? I don’t know. You get what I mean, though. I’ve never really taken stock of the life of my blog so maybe it’s a good time to do that. And I’ll let you know what I find out, learn, cringe at, etc.

Sorry to have another one of these “talking to myself” posts when I get all up inside my head and probably don’t make much sense. I hate disappointing you, Internet. It really is true. Forgive my bad memory and over-and-over-again-ness. It’s embarrassing that I can lose track of it all so quickly…but then again, I’ve been doing this for a while now. So I’ll bone up on my own work…and maybe get some answers about…stuff.

Talk to you soon. Oh, by the way, I’m at the point where she goes to the soccer game in Italy. I’m liking it so far. Though I’m glad I don’t cry on the bathroom floor that often…