Dealing with a Dilemma

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wanted to be a writer when she grew up, but she didn't really know how to make it happen. Also, she didn't really want to write a novel, because she didn't have that impressive of an imagination. While she used to lie a lot when she was younger (gulp), all of those stories were loosely based on the truth, or what she wanted the truth to be (i.e. I turned in my homework, or I did not drink the champagne from the garage).

Instead, like all of the misguided youths from this day and age, she felt she wanted to tell everyone about what she felt was interesting, and hoped the reader would feel the same way.  Though, she did try to avoid the mundane, narcissistic traps (i.e. I'm going to the store to buy cauliflower with my 25% off coupon after I get done with my marathon training for the second time today).

For several years, this girl's life was riddled with chaos and entertainment while she tried to learn mothering and how to be a successful spouse by trial and error. During this time, she had a work schedule that allowed her to be at home with a child during the day then work at a night desk in the evenings, usually by herself. All this alone time, caused information to queue in her brain. She would wait until she had a few moments each day with her husband then download story after story on him. He was, of course, enthralled with hearing about how she ran into an acquaintance at the grocery store while she had toilet paper shoved up her nose.

As this girl had learned at an early age, there is only so much of her talking people can tolerate before their eyes start to cross. But she still had more to say... what to do?

Solution: girl meets technology. Ah ha, someone introduced her to this thing called a blog. On the blog, this girl could tell all the inane stories she wanted with no shame about being inappropriate or boring, or boringly inappropriate. For years, this girl would share stories about being hopelessly terrible at a position in life yet still find all these ridiculous things funny (remember the Eli/carrots post?). Her readership was low, and that wasn't a problem at all for the girl. She just wanted to write. She loved writing. She would mentally write all day then come home and try to recreate it all on the computer.

Fast forward a few years. The girl now has a job that demands a lot of her time and requires her to be constantly communicating. Suddenly she is no longer as driven to come home and tell someone her stories. And what stories does she have to tell anymore?  Her kids are in school and are no longer embarrassing her in public on a daily basis. Plus, she hasn't forgotten to zip her fly in months.

Add another dimension, the blog now has an expanded readership. Suddenly, people who sit across from the girl in meetings are now reading about a case of diarrhea caused by a midnight consumption of cough medicine (for reals). What to do...

Is there still joy in writing socially appropriate, censured stories?  But what happens when she wants to tell people about the nonsense of minor outpatient surgery prep that includes a box with pictures on the side like this?

What happens when she find a sign like this on a stall? Whom should she tell?

Maybe the answer is she should be like most people and not tell anyone, because no one wants to see those pictures. No one wants to know that someone took the time leave the bathroom to grab post-its from their desk then they returned to leave a note on the stall, all in the name of preventing fecal transfer. And that the next person who came in the bathroom was immature enough to run back to her desk to grab her phone to take a picture of the sign, then publish it months later on a blog.

There is no answer for this girl. She can't remember if she still loves to write. Seems that she likes to simultaneously read and knit more these days. And talk about when she is going to start exercising...  which is tomorrow, or the next day.