Squish THIS, Megan.

Tomorrow, it will be two months since I was inexplicably Squished. I've kinda had to do a complete life reboot. It sucks SO HARD to try to figure out what to put on your resume, especially when what you've done for the last year or so was sell soap, and what you did for eight years before that was the thankless but immeasurably educational stay-at-home-mom gig.

I've been reading back over the archives of this blog recently, and I gotta say, y'all, I'm so glad I wrote this shit down. There were things I didn't remember, and re-reading some of my entries was very uplifting to me. I have come a long way. I like reading the stuff I wrote, especially after it's been so long that I don't remember the story and it's as though someone else is telling it.

Revisiting some of my older posts also reminded me how much I truly love writing. This girl's got shit to say! And I loved blogging because I didn't spend hours thinking of something to write about or questioning the global relevance of any particular topic. I just told shit like it was. Most days, I didn't start out with a topic in mind or a moral to illustrate. I just sat down, started typing, and let the Brilliance happen.

During my hiatus, R and I took the kids to see Doreen Cronin, the author of Click Clack Moo, Cows That Type , and she gave a really inspiring talk (aimed at kids) about the various steps involved in coming up with a story. So I got this idea that maybe I could be good at this writing thing. Maybe. And I used my unemployment money to buy some books for folks wanting to break into the biz. My favorites are Writing Mama by Christina Katz and How To Become A Famous Author Before You're Dead by Ariel Gore, both of which stress the positive creative impact of writing something every day. I should try that. It's bizarre how I used to write more when I had three kids at home to neglect. Now that I'm home alone all day, I don't always hold myself to my responsibilities, as is evidenced by the Hoarders film crew camping out on my front lawn. I watch a lot of Wendy Williams. How you doooo-uhn?

And, after I'd committed myself to this write-something-every-day venture, I got offered a new job! I shall refer to it as The Foodhole. I'll be a cashier, part time, and I'll make a dollar more per hour than I did at Squish. Additionally, The Foodhole is closer to home, I can wear jeans and t-shirts, and I'll get more hours than at Squish. Plus, my bosses are grownups! So, in a way, I'm absolutely delighted to have been Squished. I'm a bit pissed about how it went down and that they still haven't given me a reason why they fired me. None of them have spoken to me since I left. I still wonder what Megan told everyone about me, because no matter what it was, it wasn't true.

But what's the difference? Foodhole is a total upgrade, and I'm free of the spiral of negativity and self-loathing. I feel physically lighter, now that I've found something new - and better - and I've got a goal to focus on for the immediate future. I want to blog at least three times a week. I don't know if I can blog every day, and I'm not sure everything I write will actually make it onto the blog.  Some days my writing is just a phrase or a group of words that I jot down in one of my countless notebooks because I like the way they sound.  You wouldn't believe how many rants I've drafted and never posted. Some days will be more coherent than others. Sometimes I don't have anything interesting to say. But I hope that those of you who've stuck with me over the years will continue to stick around as this blog takes on what I hope will be a slightly more mature voice.

I'm still gonna say FUCK a lot, though.