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Me: Deer, World: Headlights

I knew this would happen.

I knew as soon as I pulled the trigger, popped the cork, fired the cannon - I'd get all riled up, scramble up the mountain, let myself exhale fully raising my face to the sun, then consequently lose my focus, tumble down the other side aaaaaaaaand blank.

I woke up this morning unable to contain my thoughts - so terribly excited about this leap! I was making mental notes, creating voice memos and typing at stoplights with the furor of a swarm of honeybees. It took everything I had to slow my head down once I plopped down at my day job desk, hone in on the tasks at hand, and remind myself I had this baby to come home to. At lunch time I scribbled on my napkin (hello, JKR?), and threw it away inadvertently (dang it, there goes my Harry). On my drive home I must have come up with at least a dozen ideas to get going on. Sitting in the driveway I even recited a good number of them aloud, in a now futile attempt to stick them to this Covid-brain (since yes, I had Covid - I'm gonna hold on to that for a long time, rather than just middle-age brain).

Then I came home. The kids, the dog, the mail, the impromptu visit, the dinner, the cleaning, the catch up on the show with the one kid, the catch up on the IRL drama with the other, the replies to texts I ignored...I mean, missed during the day, the dog again, the "quick" social media feed check, the what is that thing in my tooth, the damn I need a new moisturizer, get the idea.

Blank screen. Glaring at me. I blink. Blink again. Screen still blank.

But I'm in this. My head's in the game. The self-imposed pressure of the expectations of folks who have been long and short term cheerleaders in my life (please note I said self-imposed) - oh, golly gee - why on earth would I announce this so early - is not going send me rushing into the bedroom to just curl up under my comforter and make excuses for myself.

So, we might be a hot mess for a while as I stretch my legs again (how many mixed metaphors have I used so far tonight - meh, apologies to my high school English teachers - too many rules no longer apply - though I am steadfast on my beliefs on the Oxford comma). Like anything else, I simply need to practice. In the meantime, if you want to get into some of the oldies (you know, the early stuff, when no one knew what Magzland was) that do have some (I stress the definition of some) structure, revision, and care - you can check them out here, on my original blog, that's been quietly hiding in the shadows, now unattended for quite some time.

So stay with me, peeps - secure that safety bar and stow your glasses (yes, my roller coaster is OLD SCHOOL, no shoulder harnesses and safety nets - we are coming OUT of that seat on the swoop). The upswing may take a bit; I may be stuck in the road for a step or two, with a few extra blinks at those glaring lamps, but I'll get it...I'll get it.

Meet y'all at the featherball...

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Mags, WE ARE ALL CHEERING FOR YOU! Can't wait to see where you gifted writing takes you...

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