I am a person who goes through phases, cycles really, where I surround myself with something, whether it be as ethereal as an idea, or as specific as the work of a particular author. I revel in whatever my current phase is until I am completely saturated by it, and then I move on to the next phase.
My phases have included everything from gambling on professional horse racing, to gardening, to art, the last of which is not a phase that lingered long, as I apparently have no talent for drawing and can only paint walls, although I still have the leftover fetish for art supplies. Indeed, when packing up the house to 'stage' it, I found not one, but TWO unopened packages of felt-tipped pens, two boxes of colored pencils, and several drawing tablets with only one or two pages used (which drawings were whisked from Fuzzy's sight, and shredded, almost instantly).
Lately, I've realized that this journal has become stuck in a rut where I whine about how tired/stressed/overworked I am, but forget the original point of journalling in the first place, which was writing practice.
This was brought home to me a couple weeks ago when I ran into at the ATM and he commented that he works less than a mile from where I live, and yet only knows what I'm doing because I bitch in here. (Um, that was paraphrased.)
The thing is…unlike that Other Place where I write, LJ doesn't let you shed user id's the way the proverbial snake sheds its skin. And changing user names is one of the ways I mentally refresh myself.
So I've started a second LJ…well, a third, since I had a LASIK specific one, although, that's going to be deactivated, since I'm more than six months out of surgery now and there's not much new to report.
Anyway…right, I've started a second LJ.
If you're desperate for stuff to read (though as yet there is nothing to read) ask, and I'll share the ID.
This entry is dedicated to a fellow Diary-Chameleon, whose name (this week) shall not be mentioned. She's also a fellow domain slut. *snugs* Candle's lit for you, hon.