This the stage I always get to where I wonder why I do this. Why write? Why buy all these writing books? Why feel guilty when I don't write? Why can't I enjoy my life without writing? Why can't I feel that there are other areas that could make me happy? The short answer is that nothing brings me the satisfaction, so although it's hard and I want to give up I always come back to it. I don't know what kind of writing is best for me. When I look at output it would be poetry. I like this idea if not following your bliss only but also taking into account what you're good at. I'm good at working with teenagers. I'm good at reading and writing. I'm good at discussing books and articles and current events, so teaching is a good fit for me. Am I good enough to publish? I don't know yet. I know I enjoy writing when I'm able to overcome my doubting demons.
Had to give L back to the in laws. Probably the right decision as the landlord won't take pets, but it still hurts. S cried a lot. Did I prompt her to cry to make the in laws know how hard it hurts? Maybe.
Pondering a Coen brothers marathon for the remaining class time.
I don't know if I'll be doing summer school. They haven't gotten back to me yet. I'm trying to sign up for Professional Development. The hard part is always integrating what you've learned into your daily practice.
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