Contemplation of my entitlement complex.

I had this thought yesterday.

It was about 4:30 in the afternoon, and I was sitting at this computer, obsessing over a detail in the story. Researching, posting on forums to get opinions.

"What am I doing?"

The kids were hungry. There was a pile of junk by the back door I'd just dragged in the house from the car. The chicks needed food and water. The big chickens were probably wandering in the road.

But I was trying to figure out how you could find a person who's been admitted to a hospital in upstate New York. This was my priority.

It all came crashing into my head that I am not an author. No one's waiting for this story. No one even really believes that I'm writing it! What am I doing?

I'm a quitter.

Let me tell you about singing. Why? Because it's something I love. I have a good voice. Not great- but good. I went to college and tried out for the music department and made it, but spent the next year and a half wallowing at how much better everyone around me was. So, did I head to annex and practice for hours, honing my voice into the leagues of my fellow voice students?

No. I slept. I took sleeping pills. I was crushed that I couldn't do what I loved. My voice teacher was exasperated with me. I knew I was wasting her time. My friends chided me for not practicing. I was failing most of my classes.

Eventually, I just dropped out. An utter failure.

I know you shouldn't have regrets...but I regret not trying. It was all right in my lap, I just had to try. There were girls who weren't as strong as I was who worked really hard and finished and have the careers to prove it. But me? I just quit.

I never even tried art school- God forbid I run into a project that poses a challenge, I'd have to work! If I had been unable to do a project well, I would have holed up in my shell and turned on some music and cried.

So, should I stop writing? I'm clearly NOT a very strong writer. But why do I love it so much?

Growing up means different things to different people. Perhaps for me, with my interests and history, it means learning to work. I am not a genius. I am not a prodigy. Maybe the fact that I love writing so much is a sign that I need to put in some serious work to become what I want to be.

With all honesty, I am first and foremost an artist. That is probably my strongest talent.

I will probably take some classes for painting in the next couple years. My clearly untrained style is holding me back, a bit, though I do make some income with it. Perhaps a few writing classes could benefit me as well?

I have to learn to take criticism and be willing to keep going.

Now that I've been honest even to reveal myself as a big 'ole princess, I'm going to get a cup of coffee and keep writing. Even if it's years and years before it goes anywhere.

And maybe I'll join a band...