I’m currently sitting in an airplane 35,946 feet above ground going 509 miles per hour, at least that what Snapchat says. I haven’t been blogging or posting on Instagram much because I’ve been feeling uninspired [which sounds so douche-y but I can’t think of another word]. Recently I’ve been craving a change or advancement in my life. That was temporarily satisfied with a string of outfit post, fashion blogging here I come. Then I applied for a new job [don’t tell my current job]. I totally nailed it and fell in love with the romantics of working a part-time creative job with people over the age of 20, but reality sunk in, and sometimes money does buy you happiness [in the form of vacations and shoes].
I’m rambling, I know. Alex purchased our tickets on Priceline [amateur hour] and has to sit on the other side of a plane. He keeps looking back checking on me, so sweet. He’s probably confused because I’m typing this on my phone and I can probably convince him I had service during the flight [thus proving our life long battle: Apple vs Android].
Focusing on my blog now [I told you, all over the place]: recently I had a major “why the duck am I doing this?” moment. And I’m censoring myself because my students have found my social media and I’m friends with English Department people [who probably cringe at my grammatical errors and over use of parenthesis]. I know all bloggers feel this struggle but layer that on the possible seasonal depression and you find your mouse hovering over the “Delete Domain” button. Tilly recently told me that blogging was an uphill battle. Fuck, I feel like I’m climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. So I’m going back to my roots [not brunette Alex, don’t even think about cutting my salon funds] and I’m writing like this, journal style stuff with substance and a ton of parenthesis and wrongly placed commas. I’m just so tired of talking about the weather and what my kids eat. Wanna know a secret, whatever they’re eating probably came off the floor.
PS: I have to pee but I’m window seat and the lady next to me has full blown spreadsheets out and aisle seat is clacking away on her laptop. Why do I have nothing to do… maybe I’m the amateur flyer.