The Cleaning That Never Ends

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brush-cleaning-scrubber-45059Do you remember “The Song That Doesn’t End”? DON’T watch it unless you want to hear that song in your head for the rest of the day…

I only mention it because I feel like I could replace “song” with “cleaning” and that would sum up the situation here at Casa de Hall. Specifically, my upstairs office:

This is the cleaning that never ends. It just goes on and on, my friends. 

I started cleaning it last month not knowing what it was. And I’ll continue cleaning it forever just because…this is the cleaning that never ends. 

And it’s not like your everyday cleaning. Oh, no. It’s my writing life. A great big pile of my writing life. And you know how you like to think you’re a relatively spiritual person, not attached to things in this world? Yeah…when it comes to writing–your words and such–it’s not so easy. Suddenly, you’re a raving egotistical maniac!

Or maybe that’s just me. The point is, suddenly, I’m reading reams of stuff because it’s my stuff. These are my precious, precious words. And even though my brain is screaming, “Cathy! You don’t have time for this!” my eyes are scanning the lines. My stomach is lurching.

Because these may be my precious words but many of these words–TONS OF THESE WORDS–are not good. In point of fact, they’re rather bad. Eventually, I realize that this essay or that manuscript stinks and I give it a toss. But my hands are slow in doing what my brain (and stomach) knew the minute I scanned the first line.

It gives me a whole new perspective on agents and editors who blithely toss my precious words after reading the first line; they’re not invested. It’s easy to toss when you’re not invested.

And so I’ve had to detach in order to get any cleaning done. Asking, “How Important Is It?” has been helpful, too, which you’ll see when you read my post over at The Muffin. My poor little ego has been bruised and battered through this process, but I’m sorta making progress on the upstairs office.

Not a lot of progress, mind you. This is the cleaning that never ends. It just goes on and on, my friends. 

Ugh.

(Sorry about the song. If it makes you feel any better, it’s stuck in my head, too.)

 

Thanks, January

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So at long last, we say goodbye to January. It really is like the longest month ever, with its 31 days and its bitter cold and the starkness that follows the festive color and coziness of the holidays. I mean, that right there is January in a nutshell: January is the serious month of the year,right?

Or maybe that’s what it was for me and other folks were out there swinging from the New Year rafters and jumping feet first into their veggies and tofu diets–for the first couple of weeks at least. Then, I’m pretty sure they were right there with me in the January trenches, thinking ah, well. Here we go again.

clouds-hd-wallpaper-landscape-67832Except by the end of the month, I quit. And I’m not gonna lie, just typing “I quit” right now still makes my palms sweat a little and I get a sick clunk in the pit of my stomach. But I’m also–and you can imagine me singing along with Michael Buble here because that’s exactly what I’m doing–feeling good. 

 

There’s lots more to the story so you’ll want to read Just Quit over at The Muffin.

BUT. I’d just like to add that timing is everything when it comes to quitting, just in case there’s anyone thinking of making changes right now. The timing for me came when I’d had years of preparation and the means available, yes, but it was more–and mostly– about the changes in me and in my life now. 2019 Cathy has something to say that’s different from 2017 or 2015 and especially 2010 Cathy when the writing world was new.

So I guess I should thank that interminably long month of January for the time to process all that. And I hope that you have a January–whenever it may come–when you’re ready to do some thinking about your new dawn, your new day, your new life. (Yeah, you knew I’d work in a way to sing again, right?)