The Strangest Thing. How I Accidentally Became A Small Business Owner.

For months I've been avoiding my true talent, which is writing, in pursuit of more instant gratification. Retail. Yes, I said that, retail. I'm not talking retail therapy, though that has happened on occasion, I'm talking about small business. The elaborateness of my procrastination is shocking sometimes. I found myself building an Etsy shop and started selling handmade jewelry; all in an effort to not write.

I can't say that I'm good at it, I've only had four sales. I'm probably what you would call run of the mill at it. I'm selling my stuff at run of the mill prices, hoping some other kind of mill person would "please buy my stuff." It's pathetic. I should be ashamed of myself.

I threw myself into it whole-heartedly. Before that, jewelry making, there was the paint phase. It was at least satisfying. I had a great muse, space, "the final frontier." It was an endless source of inspiration. I stocked up on paints while I was exploring the artistic side of me. At least then I wasn't fooling myself. The motto back then was, "If I can't write, I can paint." I have some fairly decent works stacked up in a corner to show for it.

I became tho cliche of myself, "I'm on of those creative types..." I still feel that way. More and more I seem to want to just write. Unfortunately the demands of now being a student, artist, a natural witch, pet mom, and a small business owner, just give me more excuses to not sit at my computer and do just that. 

Even writing in this blog, seemed like the Everest of all tasks. What would I write? Would it make sense? Does anyone still read blogs? Where would I start? Can I proclaim to be a writer, if I haven't written anything in ages, almost a year? The crisis within is real, and I feel like I've been struggling to reconcile it in a coherent manner to the public. -- All seven of you.

I can say that I'm still a writer, only I've changed my platform. I've turned to Facebook of all place. Ugh, Facebook, the book of Face. The time suck that it is, the mental degradation of the planet, the reason I have less faith in humanity. I placed all my thoughts in long drawn out posts there, of all places. Of course now, if I want to resurrect this blog, I must sift through all the junk on there, to place my thoughts here. It's more of a Kilimanjaro, than an Everest, but still a mountain of a task.

Maybe I wanted more immediate gratification for my thoughts. Who really knows? I don't. I just wish I could write something of substance when it really counts.