Too Many Books

I have been feeling kind of low the past couple of days. I mean, there are multiple factors, a couple of which are sports related. The end of football season is always a sad time (I'm like a man , I know) and I'm currently watching my Indiana basketball Hoosiers play the number 13 ranked Wisconsin Badgers, in what is sure to be another painful loss. (We're currently getting blown out.) There are other important motivating factors: the general state of disorder that is my house, the crabby way in which I have interacted with hubs as of late, my overall lack of an actual social life, and financial woes a plenty. (I mean, I didn't even feel like blogging yesteray, and when I don't blog on a weekday, it usually means I'm having a pretty awfulspice day.) I think I'm just exhausted from my new work schedule. Don't get me wrong -- I really do like my new bank branch, but work is no longer a place where I already know everything about my job.   (Yeah, so...

I should be writing. I mean, like, actually working on my manuscript. I feel like such a fraud. There are the excuses -- I just started a new job, American Idol was on last night and is on again tonight, my husband is looking over my shoulder (when he isn't hogging the laptop.) Then, there is the reality: in 2010, nothing has changed. I still don't write every day. I can't even churn out 500 little words with daily regularity. Here we are, 1/12 of the way through a new year, and I haven't really accomplished much at all in the I-wanna-be-a-writer department. The old Amber would call herself predictable and let the disappointment fester. Ohh, yeah. That's so me. There I went again, not following through on my promises to myself. I'll never change. I suck at life. But, do you know what I just said to the old Amber? I said, Shut up, old Amber. Who cares? It doesn't matter what you haven't done. Just start doing it. Now. I don't of...