Typical

You know how, when you make pancakes, the first one is always kind of a test? At least, that's what you tell yourself as you're pouring the batter into the pan. You don't want to have unrealistic expectations.

Often, that first pancake turns out just fine. If not, you toss it and try again.

I'm going to think of this post like that first pancake. It might turn out fine. But if not, I'll still publish it. I'm told I overthink things, and that done is better than perfect. Whatever. Maybe. But look at me, not going down the rabbit hole of setting up a whole big website, then spending days on design. I am making like Nike and just freakin' doing it.

Well, that was the plan, anyway.

It's Always Something

It’s a quarter after 3 right now. I had the idea to try micro.blog early this morning. It won’t take long to set up, I thought. Then I’ll knock out a quick first post, jot down some other ideas, and move on to the work-work I should be doing. Or, should have done. Like, last week.

Last week is also when I agreed to check into joining the local Y. I looked at the Y's website and it all looked better than I expected. I'd done what I said I'd do just by visiting the website. But I knew the person I made the agreement with would then ask me what day I was going to visit in person. She’s not about baby steps. She’d probably also ask me what time on that day I planned to visit. I hate being pinned down like that. Better to just go ahead and do it before I talk to her again.

The Y was huge, and the tour took close to an hour. Fortunately, the library was only 10 minutes away from it. On the way there I realized the car wash was directly on the route. Was it critical to do that first? No, but there was pollen all over my car and it would only take a few minutes to drive through. Usually, when I think something won't take long, I'm kidding myself. But today I actually was quicker than usual, and was on my way within about 15 minutes.

The moment I pulled out of the car wash, my stomach started to growl. By then it was 11ish. It'd be lunchtime before long. Except I’m going to the library to work, and food is forbidden there. Not water cups, though. I could use my water cup to smuggle in something more substantial, if it'd pass through a straw. A milkshake? No. Unhealthy, plus a 20-minute detour. Then I spot a smoothie place. Perfect! Except it was a whole thing to get them to make me anything but a 900-calorie sugar bomb. I sort of managed it, $12 and 25 minutes later.

The Library, At Last

By the time I make it to the library, it's nearly noon. There's a woman sitting at my usual table—the one by the window, with a bomb-diggity power strip that has tons of outlets.

The woman is chatting on the phone, and not in a library voice. Apparently it’s OK to do that in libraries now. Same thing happened with a guy last week, although he was a little quieter. There are a few spots available at other tables, but they are unknowns. Possibly with insufficient outlets, or people who'll whip out their phones because it's no longer against the rules.

I do not like it, but I begin setting up my work area. I refuse to let anything else divert me. Last week's talky dude was gone soon enough. This one would be, too, with any luck.

Ha. Nope.

She was here for the duration, on the phone the entire time. Never even touched her computer until she went to pack it up after three hours of yacking on the phone. I chose an annoying industrial channel in my focus music app and cranked up the volume, but I couldn't completely tune her out. Fortunately, she spoke Spanish the entire time. Pero yo solo entiendo un poco de español, so her conversation was just a backing track, not a whole telenovela.

When I first thought about getting back to writing, I worried I wouldn’t be able to resist getting diverted by design and techy things if I started an actual blog. That didn’t happen on micro.blog. Hooray. Instead, however, I wasted 3+ hours on technical bullshit trying to get the damn thing set up with the name I chose. I'm writing now, obviously, but I don’t even know if it’s working. I could be shouting (writing) into the void.

But here I am. Trying anyway. Even harder now.

Reality Check

I've learned, on a head level at least, what it will take for me to do more than just get through each day. Hard deadlines. Consequences. Ticking time bombs. And, never believing the part of me that is dead certain "this will only take a minute," or "it'll be easy."

It shouldn't be like this, my responsible adult self admonishes. Ah, but this is your reality, my love, my actual self reminds me. It has always been my reality, I know now.

In the past, I spent so much time punishing myself. I always felt like I had to catch up, or make up for falling short. Anything but play or have fun. Wish I'd figured out sooner that skipping play and fun doesn't solve the "always behind" problem.

The Best Time to Start is Now

I've accomplished some big, hairy goals in my life. Things that make me wonder now how the heck I pulled them off then, when I had so much more on my plate. Everything I did started with putting myself in a position that would have been hard to get out of.

That's not what I'm doing with this blog (backing myself into a corner). But I hope it will lead to something like that. There's something about putting my thoughts in writing and seeing them in front of my face that helps my all-over-the-place brain make sense of them. That's a me benefit. So why should you spend time here?

Long term, I'm not sure. But a short-term goal is sharing a story that may help you recognize yourself if you've been on a similar journey. That won't be all this blog and community is about, but it will damn sure be at the heart of it.

I'll tell you now that I’m thinking about keeping it anonymous. Or maybe behind a login. I don’t want to feel like I have to hold back when I write. I need to say hard things from time to time. The public internet is not the place I want to put anything that could be used to hurt me or anyone I care about.

So, why say it at all? Because I suffered alone for years, and I'm still struggling in some ways. I felt like a failure in a lot of ways. I questioned my mental health. I believed many of my actions and thought processes were defective or those of a freak. Then, I found out my collection of Struggle Bus road trip sing-alongs wasn't only a 'me' problem.

So, What Is This?

If you've arrived at midlife and it's looking like yet another iffy stop on a never-ending tour of nowhere towns, I get it, 100%. You're in the right place.

Not here yet, but fear you're on the same route? Welcome—you belong here, too.

What is this place? IDK, friend. But what I do know is that it's time we hopped on the party bus and GTFO of Struggleville. Yeah, I plan to write some have begun writing about how I got here. No, I mostly don't have my crap figured out. But I do know that when you have friends along, life feels like the best party (even when we're struggling).

Anyhow, welcome to my somewhat collected thoughts. Thanks for reading, friend.

Edit: Micro.blog ended up being a clunky headache with terrible documentation. I moved my newborn blog to another platform.