Posted in About me

On the nighshift

Gonna be some sweet sounds
Coming down on the nightshift
I bet you’re singing proud
Oh I bet you’ll pull a crowd
Gonna be a long night
It’s gonna be all right
On the nightshift
Oh you found another home
I know you’re not alone
On the nightshift – (The Commodores – 1985)

Working the nightshift is unique. When I’m work, it doesn’t feel quite like work.  Yeah, I’m walking around our 1M sq. ft. facility, helping employees, answering questions, and dealing with things that come up, but it still feels different from any other job in the Human Resources field that I’ve ever had.  I attribute that to the hours and the fact that I’m not reporting to some psycho CEO anymore.  Things just feel more relaxed when it’s 11:30 at night.  Sure, there are still 400 people in the building and millions of customers clicking “Buy” on our website every second, but it all just feels more relaxed and unhurried than during the day.  Then when I head home, I’m the only one out on the road.  There are no long lines of traffic, no break lights to contend with – it’s just me, my HHR, and the open road (well, if you don’t count the dozens of stoplights).  It gives me time to think, contemplate, listen to the nuts calling in on Coast to Coast AM if I so choose (the Hopi Indians are apparently alien worshippers or something, according to last night’s show), or spend time listening to the old time radio shows saved on my iPhone.  I go to bed when the sun comes up and eat breakfast at 1pm.  Basically, my life is completely different than it was five weeks ago.  I don’t even live in the same place anymore.  Honestly, I’m left feeling a little bit adrift – a home that’s unfamiliar, a job I’m still learning.  Still, there are things to look forward to, like my business trip to Seattle in January (and another on in April.)  I’m finding that my focus is naturally shifting on where it needs to be.  My writing muse is coming back.  I’m anticipating the holiday season, even though I know I’m working mandatory 50 and 60 hours a week between Thanksgiving and Christmas (thanks, online shoppers!) I’m actually excited about things again.  It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way.

As I re-read this entry, I realize that I have no point to my thoughts.  They’re all over the place, mixed in with song lyrics.  I probably better go to bed.  After all, the sun is about to come up soon, which is my cue to be asleep!

(I swear, future entries will make more sense.)

Posted in Writing

I can still do it, can’t I?

I’ve always been a writer.  From the time I was old enough to know how to spell, I’ve had a story in my head clamored to be told.  From the stories I wrote about the members of New Kids on the Block when I was 10-years-old (*facepalm*) until this very moment, I’ve never loved doing anything as much as I do writing.  The problem, though, is that life is currently trying to pound me into the pavement.  When I started writing heavily again 2.5 years ago, it was because I needed an escape from the ugly parts of life that were bearing down on me.  For the longest time, escaping into the lives of the characters I wrote about was quite a healing balm.  Now, though, the dark part of my life that seems to be trying to surround me like a net and suck me under is just too strong.  It pushes away my concentration, my drive, and my very need to write.  It forces me to surf Netflix for an hour trying to find something to watch (and escape into) before I inevitably decide that Netflix is useless (as usual.)  It pushes me to watch stupid videos on YouTube because they take my mind off that unanswered email or that text message that I’ve put off until later because I simply can’t deal.  I guess the whole reason I’m rambling on this new blog is because I need to find my way back to words.  I have two very vivid novels inside my head and I know that I have the talent to make them happen.  I just don’t know how to dig down deep, past all the darkness and misery that is clawing at my heart, and find the words again.  I have to try, though, right?