Writing.

How Writing Turned Me Into a Full-Time “Wait”ress

I know how to wait. In fact, I’m quite good at it. I have the patience of a prom night boner. Holding in all that pent-up anticipation. Excitement. Nervous energy. Praying that the other person doesn’t smell my utter desperation perspiring beneath my composed exterior. That’s me, but on a much more graceful level. Less sexual, really.

Yep. I’m a Grade A push-over.

But this writing business is turning me into a real jerk. I’m CONSTANTLY checking my email. I’m CONSISTANTLY updating my Twitter. I’m sitting through six ‘o’ clock family dinners, twitching like a crackhead, gnawing my cuticles, counting how many chicken nuggets are left on my daughter’s plate so I know how much time I have left before I can abandon ship and refresh my iphone.

This. Is. Pathetic.

I’m 31. I have a gorgeous family. My kids are still at an age where they hug me voluntarily. Why am I shutting out all the wonderful things that surround me to cater to an illusion that I’m one-step closer to getting a response from someone I’m temporarily considering more important?

(I just checked my phone, by the way. Right after I wrote that sentence, I picked up my bastard phone and checked my email… What’s wrong with me?!?!)

This is a sickness and I need a prescription. FAST. Life is too short, and no matter how bad I want my writing career to take off, it’s not worth the extra stress. Rushing free time with my kids. Cock-blocking my husband. Neglecting the upkeep of our home. My sanity, for Pete’s sake! It’s affecting my sanity. Did anyone see HBO’s Game Change? The fantastic movie where Julianne Moore portrayed Sarah Palin as a crazy cell-phone-obsessed mom ten seconds away from a nervous breakdown? That’s me, right now. God help me, I’m Sarah Palin (portrayed by Julianne Moore). This has to stop.

Lucky for me, I’m a problem solver. I write lists for a living. I feed off of daily planners and dry erase calendars and block scheduling. And I always pass gas before I get in someone else’s car. That’s just the kind of proactive gal I am. So! The answer is clear…

*Taking in a deep breath* I need to unplug. Seriously unplug. NOT FOREVER, God no! Just…for a trial period.

I’m going to start small. I’m going to assign myself one hour a day where I am not allowed to touch technology. I will not be allowed to participate in the following:
1. Checking my email
2. Twitter
3. Facebook
4. Pinterest
5. Website maintenance
6. Internet grazing (this includes MSN.com, NFL.com, IMDB.com, and so on.)

I’ll switch my phone to silent and put it somewhere high, where I cannot reach it. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I don’t care if my husband asks, “What the hell are you doing?” when he catches me tossing my iphone onto one of the wooden blades of our living room ceiling fan. “What does it look like I’m doing?” I’ll scream. “I’m saving our lives from technology! What are YOU doing, huh? HUH?” And then I’ll fall to my knees and cry hysterically, doing my best Richard Gere impression, circa 1982’s An Officer and a Gentleman (“I got nowhere else to go!!! I go nowhere else…”).

Ok. This shiz starts tomorrow. …wait! Damn. Tomorrow is Meet the Teacher. I’ll need my phone for PTO stuff. Damn you, PTO! It’s all good. I can do it.

I CAN DO IT!!!!

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