Oops. I forgot to write my blog.
Where did the year go??
HTF did it get to be practically Christmas??
Who shrunk my jeans??
And where did my blogging mojo go???
Oh yes dear chickies, I started the new year off with the most excellent of intentions and a blank canvas.
I was shining with virtue I tells ya! We were all on a great big chickie road trip with the car stereo turned up LOUD.
Then around March, I hit a pothole… You see, in the name of doing stuff properly, I decided on a little detour, a quick pit stop. Yes we pulled the car over, I put on my brave girls pants and popped in to visit to a “real bloggers conference” … oooh fancy! I learnt a lot that day. I also met some lovely ladies. I headed back to the car inspired. I vowed that, from that moment forward, I would get my shit together. I could do this blogging thing.
I decided I’d better check out the rest… BAD MOVE.
Thing was, the more that I read everybody else’s blog and marveled at the cool and clever stuff that they all seemed to be doing; the more I was reminded that there are LOTS of really good bloggers out there, who rarely swear, that know where to put their ; ‘s and , and hardly ever go……
They have lots of followers, comments, clicks and likes and dear god, they even know how to work twitter!!!!
As I said, BAD MOVE. Comparing yourself to others is nearly always a bad move, BAD MOVE! The more I over-thought things, the worse it got. Next thing I knew, I found myself developing a full blown case of the dreaded I’m not good enoughs…
Now, I’m pretty sure that most of us are familiar with that crappy, negative voice that turns up at your moment of truth to remind you how useless it thinks you are:
Who did I think I was, putting in my 2 cents worth? Why would anyone be interested in reading it anyway? What if people started trolling me…
Blah blah blah blah BLAH
So there I was standing at the crossroads overwhelmed, working out what to do next and, at the same time, telling the nasty voice to f-off, when it occurred to me
that, there is this one thing I am most excellent at!
And chickies I am pleased to report that, in my hour of need, “that one thing” did not let me down. Yep, in it rode on it’s big white horse all buffed up and ready to go.
“oh darling where have you been I have missed you so… have you lost weight?”
It was my old friend Mr Procrastination! I know he is bad for me, but by god he is hot! Standing by the road in my moment of weakness, I let him sweep me up into his big strong muscly arms and procrastinate the bejesus out of me.
We’ve been at it since March and dear god, it’s November already, it’s a wonder I can walk!
All of these months, he has been keeping me sooo busy finding extra little ways to fill in all the hours in my day with every other conceivable thing EXCEPT for writing blog posts. Whispering sweet nothings in my ear…
“just have a cup of tea and a piece of chocolate before you sit down and get on with that blog post gorgeous chickie.. it will make your cellulite go away”
“oh yes my love, you SO have time to go out for a coffee with your friends before you get started.. you’ll be in the mood later on”
“clean out the laundry cupboard my little cupcake.. you will write a much better story when that is done.
until today… a beautiful sunny morning in November. I wake up and go for a walk in the warm breeze, and I know that it is time.
Oh Procrastination, how I do adore you and your washboard abs and your strong manly ways. Breaking up is hard to do. Please put down my home cooked breakfast and stop stroking my hair, this is difficult enough… You may be handsome and ripped and say all of the right things, but, it’s time that I started believing in myself again dammit! I need to stop avoiding the truth by staring at your abs of steel, your muscly arms,
I need to set you free.
You see, here is the deal:
I have got a job to do, and that job is to just be me.
I may not be:
- writer of the year
- have a squillion followers
- be everybody’s cup of tea
In fact, I am:
- annoyingly cheerful
- I have a dumb arsed smile which gets me into trouble because I often smile when I'm mad or being yelled at.
- could not do a pushup to save myself
- I swear too much
- apparently, I always have to have the last word (pfft!)
Oh and according to my kids, when talking in a serious voice I sound like I'm yelling???
And all of that is so okYou see, I am not alone. Do you see those other lovely chicks sitting in the car waiting patiently for me to get back in? (I’m pretty sure they’ve eaten my chips while I was gone, but I’ll get over it)
We are in this together.
Smile chickie isn’t ‘a brand’… it’s me, but is also me speaking up for a lot of gorgeous, amazing chicks out there who are all quietly getting on with making their own little difference in the world. So Mr Procrastination, it is with much sadness that I have to let you go
Please don’t cry, it isn’t you, it’s me. Whilst I’ve been basking in your company, I’ve been distracted from worrying about whether or not I’m good enough.It’s time that I got over myself.I need to stop procrastinating.It’s time that I got back to the car, where I will turn up the stereo and continue to cheer us all on. Continue to remind us all that it’s perfectly ok to not be perfect, that there is no need to compare ourselves and our lives to anyone else’s, that there is room for us all to thrive and be happy and that by supporting each other instead of tearing each other down, that we ALL get to our destinations much more quickly and happily.So, as Mr Procrastination strides off heartbroken into the sunset (which, might I add, is distracting enough as it is, due to his very nice bum).
I hereby solemnly swear to pull my finger out and get on with it! It’s time for lots of short sharp sweet bursts of sunshine to give us all a smile and to remind us to look after ourselves and each other.
We’ve had an extended toilet break on our great big chickie road trip. Let’s not sit around overanalyzing the map… its much more fun when you wing it anyway. So chickies… it’s time to get back in the car, get moving and see where the road takes us.
Lets us all remember that we promised to be silly, be honest and be kind Now, pass the chips and can someone please tell me how the hell did my jeans get so bloody tight? GRRRRR
Hands up who’s ever felt like they just weren’t quite good enough...