Chores and Homework

I am in charge of updating the blog for my company, which is laughable considering how often I update my personal blog. Needless to say, I'm a little behind. I'm supposed to make an entry every time we have a company party or event. Problem is: we have company parties/events about every other month, and clearly, I'm only comfortable updating a blog once a year. So...I'm about 9 posts behind on my company blog, and still I'm not doing it.

My new rule: I have to update my personal blog before I update my company blog because my boss has made it a priority, so I have to do it anyway. This way I might get in the habbit of updating my personal stuff better (not likely, but it's worth a shot).

I have problems with crap like this all the time. If I really enjoy something, it automatically becomes the one thing I hate the most when I'm REQUIRED to do it instead of doing it for fun. It's like when I was a little girl and I would play around on the piano for fun. I begged and begged my mom to send me to piano lessons, and when she finally gave in I HATED it. I barely made it thru 2 years of that crap before I finally refused to do it anymore. Now I love to play piano as long as no one is listening and they don't put in any requests. And for Pete's sake, don't ask me to play accompaniment for anything! Even if I can do it!

I used to really love writing...when no one was telling me how or what to write. Now it's the most difficult task in the world! I litterally sit in front of the computer, with my hands on the keyboard, struggling to form a coherent thought, for HOURS. All those great story ideas I have go right out the window. That witty phrase I thought of this morning in the shower? Gone. All I can think is, "I hate this." I could pull a "Shining" and just type, "All work and no play makes Valerie a dull girl," over and over again.

But that would just be creepy.

This is exactly why I won't take pictures for money. If someone goes and taints my love of photography too...I'll have to whip out a can of whoop-ass.

Intro

So I've decided to start this diary to document just how incapable I am at being normal in public. I figured, if I could write things down as soon as I make a fool of myself, then it would prove to my unbelieving family that, in fact, I have a legitimate disability.

I'll try to write in it every day to document each uneventfull moment of my sad existance, but if this proves even too boring for me then I may settle for only occasional entries when I do something truely idiotic. I'll play it by ear.

I should also note (in case this account gets into the wrong hands) that this is very private, and should not be read unless given express permission from the author (Moi). If I find that someone has read this without my permission, great penalties will ensue. Or in other words, prepare to reap the whirlwind, my friend.