I used to write in my bathroom when I needed to think. I would take a notebook, huddle up on the floor next to the heat vent, and just write. I write like I think, and I didn't worry about spelling or punctuation or proper anything. My handwriting is atrocious, and became much worse the faster I thought. Getting it down on paper helped me straighten out my thoughts, clarify what I really wanted, finish conversations, get the last word in. It also helped me solve problems, and let go of guilt or "shoulduves."
I'm not sure why it was the bathroom. I could be in there for a long time and no one would bother me or ask what I was doing (because they thought they knew!).
I chew on problems. No, it's more like mauling, even long after it's dead and over, like a huge woolly bear after it woke from hibernation. Or, like me with my daughters Halloween candy on a cold fall night. Endlessly mauling...
The only way to stop the carnage is to talk it to death. I review the case over and over with anyone who will listen; my friends, my neighbors, my husband, my parents, random strangers standing in line at the grocery store. Talk, chew, maul, talk chew maul...
But now I have blogging, and writing is still a great way to get it all out and say all I want to say, and look it over, and maul it over. I'm not really sure that anyone reads this anymore, which is kind of fun, but kind of strange too. Because I don't really write the thoughts out to get advice (sometimes, but not always), but to get them out there somewhere, so they're not stuck in my head.
So I guess you could call it thinking out blog.
Diamonds in the Rough
8 hours ago