From my journal. January 3, 2019. 06:15. Got the new blog up and running yesterday, whaling away at it from around 09:00 till 15:00, till my head felt inflated, not from pride, more like the way eyes get puffy from overtiredness. Are the letters of my name on my card overtired — maybe from carrying all that story material?
Anyway, emailed Moira about “A Moment For Moira.” The tagline, which WordPress cooed would take only two minutes to dream up, did come surprisingly easily: “Because she missed my writing.”
Used a letter to a friend as the basis for my first post. The letter mentions Fear Sharks, so that would be the obvious next post.
Or I could write about the words on my card, clarifying that they are facts, not goals, and consistent facts as well, probably lifelong ones, not occasional ones such as “kind-hearted,” which I crossed out as soon as I had penciled it on my possibilities list.
Is that my New Year’s Goal, then, to sort my real self from my ultimately disappointing wishes for other-selfness — a better homemaker, a published writer, a kinder person, for example? Oooo, this is scary stuff — I might well be on the brink of maturity. Or worse, happiness.
Just be who I am — that’s easy — and my best me, because it’s my real me, will become shinier with the polishing? I could live with that. I think. Let’s see what the year holds.