The Strange Act of Writing, or, in other words, Erasing my Previous Writing

I love to write.

I could spend hours writing.  I do spend hours writing.

It's when I am writing that I best express my thoughts.  Sometimes that is a good thing.  Sometimes it is a great thing.  And sometimes, not so much.

This morning was one of those times.  I wrote a piece comparing working at a Christian Bookstore with working at Baskin Robins.  While I received all positive feedback from it, I kicked myself all day for writing it.  Why?  Because I wrote it when I was experiencing much un-gratitude for something that I should feel and do feel, generally, much gratitude for.  A job.  A job where I get the chance to have interesting conversations with people.  Like the Catholic customer who asked me questions last night, affording me the opportunity to look up in Logos on my phone, the answers to her questions.  And the couple who, for the first time in their lives, were searching for Bibles to purchase and read.  I am grateful.

I am also grateful for my sense of humor.  I agree with Bill Cosby that "You can turn painful situations around through laughter.  If you can find humor in anything, even poverty, you can survive it."  There is much to laugh about in life.  There is much to laugh about me---I produce enough fodder for jokes and the ridiculous to keep any stand-up comic in business.

However, sometimes my sense of humor takes on the edge of circumstances.  This morning was one of those mornings, that after a short night, my sense of humor "got the best of me".   And thus, born out of that, was a writing that was both, at once, humorous (to me anyway) and ungrateful.

Being the overthinker that I am, I have stewed about my writing the entire day while substitute teaching.  Thus here I am, writing once again.  But this time I'm writing my way through my "stewedupness", trying to make heads or tails out of my love of writing and the way it presents at times.

Of course, I realize none of this may make sense to anyone except for myself. But then, what really is a blog for?  It's pretty self-indulgent actually.  Thus I think I'll be able to go off to work in the next hour now to the Christian Bookstore somewhat assuaged and relieved.

What an odd duck I am.