I am writing here today instead of saying “fuck it” I’ll do it tomorrow. Instead of honoring the weird procrastination excuses that I have like:
it’s 6pm and that’s not when I free write
I really don’t have time. I have to map out my to-do’s for the week.
I’ll start over tomorrow and then I’ll intentionally go for a streak of 30 days of making sure to free write. But I can’t start that now because I didn’t write it first on this 30 Day Challenge printable worksheet that I have. I could stop and write in it right now and set an intention to write and then just stop drop and write, right now, but nah.
It looks like I am writing though. Look at me! I’ll fill in the 30 Day Challenge sheet once I’m done with this 750 word free write. Ugh. It will be doing things a little bit backwards but I think that’s okay. On Day 30 I will NOT remember that I didn’t fill out the sheet first and THEN jump in to begin writing.
I just did the Cinnamon ritual. I almost did it from the wrong hand. The ritual is to take a pinch of cinnamon and put it in your right palm. Set your intentions for abundance and stand on the threshold of your front doorway, or right before the threshold. Say what you intend to draw in and then blow the cinnamon into the front door. I have an apartment so technically I stood in the hallway and blew into my apartment. I wonder if I did enough cinnamon. It says not to sweep it or vacuum it up until 24 hours but I didn’t blow enough cinnamon for it to accumulate on the rug. At first I put the Cinnamon in my left palm and right before I blew on it - I double checked by Googling and everyone said to use the right hand. But also the left hand is fine too. I don’t want “is fine too.” I want to do it right. When I appropriate someone’s culture and do the Tik Tok version, I want to do it right.
Ah, this feels so good to be writing because I am almost done and see that wasn’t a big deal.
This is boring though. It’s really simple and I can fool myself and think that anyone reading it will read it as one of those well-written “economy of words” pieces that brilliant people who could use bigger and more words write. This isn’t that. This is a boring free write where I am just putting words so that I can honor my challenge.
It’s not that real feelings aren’t coming out. I did want to write about the cinnamon ritual because I’m not gainfully employed right now and I’m worried. I’m scared. I’m terrified. And I have to resort to faith that I will come through and I am putting all of my faith in this generic store brand of cinnamon that I bought last month to do the ritual and forgot. But last night I put out the cinnamon on the counter and I remembered to do it today. I remembered a few times. Each time I saw the cinnamon on the counter I remembered. But I couldn’t be bothered to open it and do it when I’d see it earlier in the day. Fucking ADHD. Fucking perimenopause. Connecting any thought to an actual action, it’s like trying to get a toddler’s snow pants on or a cat into a cat carrier or a toddler into a cat carrier and a cat into snow pants. It’s so much effort and it’s not cute, even though it seems cute. It’s not cute.
But I did it. I did the cinnamon ritual and I am almost done with the free writing.
Why can’t I be a beautiful writer who breaks people’s hearts. Why can’t my writing be passed around online. Why can’t my writing be stolen. It’s not even worth stealing and passing off as your own? Jesus. Tough crowd.
That would be funny if Jesus had said “tough crowd” as they cheered on his crucifixion. I just had the hardest time spelling that word. I almost thought it was cruci-fiction and I’m sure some self-satisfied dude has already come up with that word, in some ham-fisted essay about why he’s such a genius to be an atheist as though it’s a new thing or a radical thought.