AHHH!

Remember when Bo Burnham asked, "Can I say my shit, New York?" Well, can I say my shit SpaceHey? The fact that I had some kind of weird nostalgia for simpler days when I created this account means that I'm likely to forget about this all very quickly if only because some of the pieces of my teenage years I'd rather not revisit. Anyway, I am pretty sure I haven't used a platform like this since 2005ish which means I was around 16. Don't do the math! It'll just make you feel sad and probably old. 

I'm an author who hasn't written a novel (or many usable words strung together in any coherent way) in about two years. It could be that I hadn't had a dedicated space to write until I got this desk and this Mac and this chair which is actually an artifact from the second and third novels I completed about five years ago, I think. But, if that were the true problem, I'd be able to put something together like I used to. My job is stressful, yes, but I have plenty of free time. Yes, I'm going through a divorce but it isn't messy and I've found a lot of freedom in it. I mean, maybe that's my story but I can't write it yet. There are still too many unknowns within it and I don't want to mess up the ending with my own imagination. Oh, and before you start to feel sorry for me about the divorce, know that I'm engaged to the love of my life now and I'm really just waiting on the paperwork. Also, my husband has a baby with someone else. 

Now I'm wondering whether I should make this journal/blog/bullshit private because I don't really relish my mother finding these words and worrying about me. Okay, mostly the curse words. She'd hate that. Then again, I HIGHLY doubt that she even knows how to make her own account here and anyone that does, wouldn't know her so I think I might be alright. Grammarly is telling me there are a lot of typos here. Three to be exact. Mostly it's yelling about my choice of phrasing. Honestly, I don't really care about that as much as I probably should. I just wanted to blurt this verbal diarrhea (which, by the way, I cannot spell and there appeared a red line beneath that word) to someone that might not judge me if things aren't perfect. Life isn't perfect.