Rough weekend. Had a migraine and was pretty much useless. I hate that when I get a migraine it lays me up and I can't do anything. It makes me feel lazy and depressed.
My house is a mess, I have laundry to do, I have to change the sheets, blah, blah, blah. Am I using these as excuses to stay away from trying to release my "inner artist" for fear of failure.
What is the point really of this blog? I got a new laptop so I could post when the mood strikes - what a waste of money we don't really have.
I set goals for myself and all they do is mock me there is no motivation in them.
What is the matter with me? Why can't I just sit down with a book, read it, then follow the instructions? I don't even have to think of something to do on my own! Too scared obviously.
I spend a lot of time wondering who I am and yet I'm too scared to find out. What if I find out the person I really am is as inadequate as I believe her to be? What if I find out that she's way better and I've wasted her time? I can sit around wondering I am good at that. I refuse to give up on this too. My husband keeps telling me "You do what you can" and he's pretty smart when it comes to me and my ruminations. In his honor I pledge that today I can fold laundry and fill up one page with color. Plus I posted here.