Motivation, or lack thereof

I'd like to start this post by saying that I updated my photo blog. :)

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You know, NaBloPoMo is supposed to help bloggers exercise their creativity. Honestly, I don't know if it's quite working for me. Don't get me wrong, I've actually enjoyed participating in NaBloPoMo, and I can definitely see myself participating in the future. The ironic part in all of this is that for most of this month I've felt simply uninspired. Perhaps lazy, unmotivated, and lethargic would be a better way to describe me as of late. I don't exactly know what it is, but I seem to be in a rut. I continuously stay up too late and then find it almost painful to get up in the morning and get on with my day. Maybe I just need a change? A new job perhaps? I thought today that it might be valuable to sign up with a temp agency. Well, maybe. The idea of floating around from job to job with adults seems like a vacation from floating around from job after job working with children. I somehow think that is wishful thinking! Is it too late to do an internship once you've already got a degree? I need to do something different. I really need to talk to advisers at U of M to at least get my brain in to the idea of educational pursuits, but yet again, the motivation is not there. I've also been meaning to try to learn a new crochet pattern from watching how to videos on YouTube, but yet again I don't feel motivated enough to do it. Ah, anyhow, I've made a plan for tomorrow to try to get my brain moving. I've actually planned out my day hour by hour to keep myself productive. I'll let you know tomorrow how that works for me.

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A small side note, there was a police chase down my street a few hours ago! We live in between two major roads, and our street is pretty much the main side street. People drive up and down it all the time to get from one road to the other. We suddenly heard this car squealing around the corner of the main road to our south, heading to the road to the north. A few seconds later, we heard police sirens, and a police blazer came tearing down the road after it. A minute after that, three more police cars came chasing along. When my dad left the house about an hour later, he said there were four police cruisers parked outside an apartment complex not too far away. Why do I always disagree with the reports that say Flint is the third most dangerous city in America?

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Going back, when I was speaking of creativity, I've been having an idea as of late. When I was a little girl, I came up with a drawing of a family. It was a cutesy, girly creation I called "The Curl Family." It actually started when I was bored and I drew a drawing of a little girl with curly hair. After that, I drew a picture of her two younger sisters. Then, I drew pictures of her parents. Once I created this family, for years later I would draw them in various scenes. The Curls at Christmas, The Curls go on vacation, etc. I remember that in the sixth grade, I had a Trapper Keeper (well, the updated 90's version of a Five Star) that I kept all my drawings in. Some of them happened to be the Curl Family. Once while at recess (here, sixth grade is the last year of elementary school), I brought my notebook out with me, and was sitting under a tree creating more of the Curls. A few girls came up, and I was absolutely mortified that they'd see my kiddie drawings and make fun of me. Instead, the exact opposite happened! The girls looked at my drawings and oohed and awed over them. They wanted to see all my drawings of the Curl family. Next thing I knew, the girls in my class were drawing their own versions of the Curls.

So what does this story have to do with an idea? Well, I am pretty sure I still have some of those old drawings up in the attic somewhere. I keep thinking that this would make the cutest ever series of children's' books. This was an idea I came up with as a child, that all the other kids seemed to rave over. Using the models that I drew as a kid, and the characters that I created as a kid, what better way to appeal to a child? As stated above, my motivation has been lacking severely. I have no idea when I'd find the time for this idea, or how anyone even goes about getting something published. I would hardly be doing something like this to become rich, but it would be a great sense of accomplishment. I'm sure there are a million people who think they have a good idea for a children's book, so actually getting this accomplished is probably like the same odds as winning the lottery. Still though, I can't help but think I have a good idea.

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To end today's blog, I have another cute (possibly boring and gagging) pet story. Teddy (my black lab German Shepard mix) is a very strange, big dog. :) Everyone makes the comment about him (besides the fact that he snarled at them) that he is remarkably clean. He never really has an odor, and he is always sleek like someone rubbed oil over his black coat. To add to his cleanliness, he loves soap and wet washcloths. Yes, the dog is bizarre. If you are in the bathtub, he will without a doubt scratch and whine at the door, begging to come in. When he does come in, he tries to eat soap bubbles, and begs for your washcloth. When we give him a washcloth, he will immediately drop it on the floor, and bend down, rubbing his face against it. This is like one of his all time, favorite pastimes.

This afternoon, my mother took a quick bath in the middle of the day. Teddy had been outside during this event, so he was unaware that a fresh washcloth was waiting for him on the side of the tub. It wasn't long after this and my dad came home. Teddy was further distracted because he has a very sweet and endearing obsession with my father. Finally, Teddy realized the bathroom fan was on, and this meant someone took a bath! He ran upstairs to be in his washcloth glory, but accidentally locked himself in. The poor thing was probably up there for about half an hour, whimpering and crying to get out. I thought I could faintly hear him crying as I walked towards the staircase, and I pretty immediately realized what he had done. The poor thing went running downstairs, wanting my mother to console him. Tabitha was not very happy about his sudden attention, and decided to attack him. LOL Tabitha does have quite the temper, but my mom yelled at her to knock it off, and she stopped in her tracks. See, I know, I'm one of those obnoxious pet people, but this is why I just love dogs. They definitely have their own personalities and strange little quirks about them. How can you not love them?