Far behind...

I am so far behind.

Look at all these blogs and posts and voices demanding my attention. Stories that are so compelling, so raw, so true that OF COURSE they had to be written, there was absolutely no other choice. Who am I to think that I have anything new to add, anything different to say, any story to tell that hasn't been told a thousand times over?

I am a writer.

Such a glamorous title, what images leap to mind? I know what portrait I would prefer to paint - the free spirited thinker off on adventures around the world, stopping periodically to check emails and dash off witty and charming blog posts about living life on my own terms, answering to nobody, kicking 9-to-5 to the curb and laughing on my merry way.

Here's the current picture - Thursday night on the couch in sweatpants and a stained sleeveless T-shirt, MacBook on the lap, merlot at my side. The Olympics are on TV, inspiring and depressing at the same time. These children are so talented, so magical, and they still have so much of their lives ahead of them. Why didn't I keep up with gymnastics as a kid? Why didn't I at least keep exercising? Why did I have that 3rd slice of pizza?

I am so far behind.

Far behind the life I really want to lead. Far behind in the blogosphere. Far behind in my posts and pictures and practices.

Only one thing to do.

Write, write, write.

Time for the incredible come from behind victory that leaves the spectators breathless and exhilarated, and elevates the winner to instant godhood.

Time for that perfect 10, that match point, that overtime goal.

Time for me to quit watching Olympic coverage 12 hours a day.

Time to write.

You'll be seeing a crazy quilt of commentaries as I find my way through the mass of information in my brain. Fiction, truth, a combination of both, perhaps even poetry and songs. I just have to keep...on...writing. Perhaps if I can pull some of these stories out of my head and commit them to electrons, I'll find the space to clear a path, find a direction, choose a subject and stick to it. Until then, I'll be writing, writing, writing.

There's a gold medal for writing, right?