swirling around.

South bank, London.
Nov. 2010.

I've got a lot of things just spinning around in my brain today.

I wanted to have the rest of the posts for this week planned out and scheduled, and yet here I sit at 9:45 pm on Thursday night trying to spit something out so that I can keep the traffic up.

Blogging as a business is kind of a weird betrayal for me. I kind of feel like I'm selling out, but even that's not really accurate, since I'd have to be making money for this to even be "selling".
That's not to say that's not the goal, but for now it's simply a "hobby" that I'm cramming in to the free time that I don't have in order to maybe get a promise that is being loftily held above my head.

Sometimes it all just feels like a lot of work for little return, and I wonder if it's a worthy pursuit of my time.
But I like it, and sometimes I feel like I'm good at it, even if I'm still finding my voice and trying to make it a priority. (You don't want to know what doesn't get done in order to make sure that something shows up in this space. But it's usually a clean bathroom. Or clean clothes. Or a clean me.)

I guess I just have to remember that I'm only human at the end of the day.
That, and the Perfect Christian Wife image that's imprinted on to my brain is not actually an accurate picture, but rather an impossible one.
Things are going to slip, and that's just how it's going to be.

People are messy, myself included.
We don't come in pretty packages, complete with designer house and optimal wardrobe.
Even though admitting that is less-than-ideal, it's the truth.

And that's what I want more than anything.
The truth.

Talk to me about your life. Your mess. Your truth.