I feel like I am just wandering through life lately without any real purpose. I get up go to work come home, eat get kids to bed, watch tv a bit, go to bed. Same ole, same ole. Its funny because I love routine but lately I really hate it–almost despise it. Maybe its because what I really want to do is write. That what I need to do, so why do I put it off. I feel the pressure of others telling that I need to write–to be published but yet I write very little. Am I sabotaging myself? Do I not want to succeed? Or am I scared of what will happen if I do? It could be the opposite too–scared of rejection and/or failure. What I need to do is pull up my big girl panties and write. Not listen to what others tell me about writing or publishing (all that takes the fun out of writing). Go escape to my writing. Let it release me from the mundane routine of life.