Maybe I Do Make Sense After All

Crazy Cherry

Crazy Cherry

I like to think I am a writer.  I might not have graduated with a degree majoring in writing or journalism, but I can write.  I know how to write.  I love to write.  I am happy if I find the time to write.  I write.

Now that I am a mother and a partner, a working mom so to speak, I rarely have enough time to finish the things or even to start doing the things that I wanted to accomplish.  There are just so many things to do at home – in addition to the 40 hours a week you devote to the office, and the 6 hours or so you devote to learning Dutch.  The things that I would love to do: writing, scrapbooking, reading, browsing the internet for ideas – are lovingly put aside for some other time – time like this: when I am too tired to do the ironing and wish that we have a machine that will do it for me.

My friends thought that I have already forgotten that I have a blog to maintain.  I have not.  Never have I forgotten.  I actually always think otherwise – that I start the day telling myself that today I am going to write a piece of myself.  You know, if you start writing, words just come.

I studied my blog again, and clicked on the other bloggers who followed me.  Some of them have published books!  Most of them are really good writers.  Others are blossoming artists, I think, maybe like me.

Most of them are parents.

They “like” my posts.  They follow my blog.

Maybe I do make sense after all.


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