Transparency

Inspirational song: Mr Cellophane (Chicago)

I feel like I have painted myself into a corner. There is a fine balance between wanting to maintain some semblance of anonymity on the Internet and wanting to be a total exhibitionist, or as I more candidly describe it, an attention whore. I want to be able to say anything, open up as much as possible, to paint an interesting picture so people will want to read my story.  But sometimes I have to keep secrets. I don't want to use real names. I don't want to put up pictures of human faces. And I don't want to give up the privacy of my friends and family, whose stories I sometimes borrow from, even when I am prevented from telling all. At some point in the future, I may revisit my own rules. But for now, I am exceedingly frustrated. There are exciting things all around me, but for some or all of the above reasons, I can't share any of it. Most importantly, the biggest of all of these is such a long shot, and could affect my life so significantly, I am terrified to jinx it if I blab.

And so I find myself stuck. I didn't take any new pictures today. I'm still avoiding the outside, because of a myriad of reasons, like the billions of spiders that won't go away until it gets really cold, and how tired I am from throwing myself bodily back into the crazy biggest-loser style workout. So I have no pretty flowers to show off. I haven't painted anything in weeks other than my nails (and who needs yet another photo with my goofy toes in it?). I haven't picked up any new cats or dogs, thankfully, and it mostly left the ones I have alone. Now it's late and the light isn't good, and they're all just lying around, giving me the stink eye for not turning off the tv and going to bed already.

Every part of me hurts. We have been working out like the week off never happened. If I keep sitting here, struggling to write while I'm distracted by DVRed singing competitions, I will miss my opportunity to soak in some Epsom salts before bed. I have to decide what is the priority. And some warm, clear water sounds like the best way to drown my sorrows.