Today I have managed to spend a shockingly large portion of the day procrastinating but I also have worked through some lessons of a Skillshare writing class and I’m doing this entry. The guilt of having spent money spurring me on. I’m on my front porch writing this while it rains. Rain smells amazing. I started my second listen of the Art of Asking. One of Amanda Palmer’s suggestions is coinciding with my class in a way. She suggests taking any hater comment and imagining it being aimed at the Dalai Lama. My class suggests writing down all of your fears and then either crossing them out one by one or deleting them. Both are a way of taking out the mental trash. My problem is, I’m not even worried about what people will think of what I write. I’m just worried they will read it. I seriously may need a pen name if I ever manage to finish anything. That’s why this blog is a way for me to attempt to get past that. Though so far it has been oddly comforting to see that no one is reading it 🙂 At least I’m putting something out there with the possibility of being read. For a while I participated in More Love Letters. Part of it was making little encouraging notes to be left for strangers. I wrote so many notes! They are still in my wallet! I just checked my twitter. I wrote them April 2013. Cyclical much? I loved making the notes but I’m terrrified of someone seeing me leaving them. Thinking I’m a vandal. Reading them while I’m still nearby and knowing who wrote them. I need to make distributing them one of my goals. I think I did leave one in Target one day? I want to go somewhere to write. Writing at home is tough with various chores looming over me. My brain justifies it as not being procrastination because these things do need to be done. Desire to be a writer sure is getting my house clean.