Evolution is a funny thing. Sometimes we are so busy with the business of evolving that we lose complete sight of our roots. (Mental note: I can actually see my roots right now, so it’s time to evolve my hair color)
I tried to evolve in my writing and put childish things away (like my crayons I wrangled) I became the strong and inspirational lady who wrote to “Dear Kitty”
Guys, she was strong when she was writing and inspiring when she was writing, but she also kept me in virtual writing handcuffs. When I wasn’t writing, I was weak, struggling and pretty freaking boring. I was kicking crap under the couch and putting on my strong face.
Around a month ago, the locks started getting picked and the dustbunnies pushed real life out from under the couch. No matter how many inspiring sermons I delivered to the dustbunnies, they refused to keep my crap hidden anymore. I had a choice…I could write about the deeper meaning of dustbunnies and deliver you some scriptures to make you feel better about your couch cushion crap collection or I could write a silly song about dustbunnies….but wait…Dear Kitty was sooo serious and would never do that.
But I would and why on earth am I not allowing myself to do that anymore. Why does strong have to mean stuffy…why does inspirational never apply to parodies of Edgar Alan Poo (That’s not a typo folks…I actually wrote Edgar Alan Poo poetry once before)
So I took a sabbatical for a while. Totally cut myself off from the online world (almost went crazy not being able to Instagram my food or a sunset) and I have decided that I will likely go insane if I don’t let Crayon Wrangler back into my life. She was 99% me (the other 1% only reserved for those who can handle the me that has one legged races up and down my driveway at 2am after hanging out with my best friends and laughs so hard at a kitten that attacked in the middle of the night that we prove women who bear more than 2 children should always wear depends if humor might make an entrance)
So who has the confetti for the triumphant return of tales of The Scribblers and the ramblings of a Crayon Wrangler? (If nobody comments here I am holding dustbunnies hostage)