I’m addicted to my blog.
And social media.
Checking my iPhone.
And staying in touch with you here.
I might as well face it, I’m Addicted (to blogging).
In case you are NOT familiar with the lyrics to Robert Palmer’s 1985 song, “Addicted to Love,” because you were born in 1990-something, please do me a favor and leave the room for a minute. Just step away from the screen for five seconds so I can collect my thoughts. Or go eat something with refined sugar. Or something fried. Your youth and fast metabolism are making me feel antiquated. And wrinkly. Allow me to back up a minute. I have tried for two weeks now to NOT BLOG and just free-write. Which is why I’m admitting that I’m ADDICTED.
I’m trying really hard to take the advice of my friend and writing coach, Hannah. I adore her. She is right. She gets me. She understands my insane writing process. My need to multi-task while simultaneously writing everything I’m thinking. And sneak semi-sweet chocolate chip morsels from the pantry in order to keep writing.
We both share a love for whipped cream. Extra whipped cream on any hot beverage, from tea to steamed milk and beyond. It helps keep the stream of consciousness flowing.
She knows what I need right now, which is to LAY OFF MY BLOG and just FREE WRITE for a bit.
I know I need some time off. (To take my own advice, from the OnlineRI.com post, Digital Detox. Hello, I need to follow these steps right now, big time.)
I have been so busy with other pr and writing deadlines, I decided to take a little break from writing and updating my blog. But, like any mother trying to do something good for herself, there is guilt attached to it.
So, in case you think I’ve vanished. That I don’t care. That I stopped blogging for good. Just realize I’m in this for the long haul. I’m just taking a “little break.” (Think Ross from Friends, “We were on a little break”.) I’m not breaking up from my blog. I’m just trying to get some other stuff done. I’ll be here. And in the meantime, feel free to stay in touch with me here or here too. XO