I keep wanting to finish the second book, but I’m not 100% certain it’s even going in the direction I want it to. However, when I try to force it to go in one direction, my brain appears to shut down. I’ve had writers block before but I don’t ever remember it being as bad as it has become. My mind is cluttered and even the change of scenery for writing hasn’t really helped de-clutter it.

I keep hoping that the next day will be better, my attention and energy still sucked into my working life. I worked with a coach last year to “Love my Working Life” and I do, more than I ever have. There are opportunities to learn and grow that I don’t feel I’ve ever had before. It’s been one hell of an amazing ride for me, and like every roller coaster there are ups and downs, but the ride is a rush of information, experience and knowledge that I’m learning to grow through.

But it appears to take all my energy and I’m worried I’ve lost a part of me, the writer. I keep hoping she’s still in there, that burst of creativity. I used to never be bored online. I had chats and forums that I frequented, and now I spend endless hours scrolling facebook, feeling like part of my soul is dying with each roll of the mouse.

Today, I’m sitting in front of my desktop, looking at the screen and the words printed on it. Challenging myself to make those words form coherent thoughts – to talk to the imaginary characters in my head that make up the fantastical worlds I write in. I think somewhere along the lines I forgot how to write for myself, and I keep trying to write for what others want to read.

I’m not going to be a Rowling, a Tolkien or even a Meyer, I’ve got to be me. I have to find what makes me happy and stop focusing on what others want. Maybe then these characters will talk to me again.

One can hope.

Not my business on how he builds his home, and all the power to him on how he goes about it, but we’ve had nothing but issues along the way.  First it was the removal of our lilac bushes that bordered the property.  They were big beautiful lilac bushes that bloomed beautifully in the spring.  I loved them, honestly – even if I did hate that they sometimes rested on my car.  I wasn’t willing to let that go when he ripped them out without speaking to us.  Then the fence, his crew broke our fence while digging the hole for his house, then tried to tell us it was just a couple of nails.  Meanwhile the posts are broken and we can’t open the gate if we try.

Next it’s the gigantic hole in the ground.  Well that’s just lovely a 7ft deep hole in the ground and the lack of a construction fence around it.  Of course by this point I’m already annoyed so I call the city and have them force him to put up the construction fence.  By now I’m thinking what could be next?

It’s the windows.  Who builds a new home and then lines the windows up with the neighbour’s house.  I can literally look right into his living room from my kitchen.  Classy.  I get the desire for natural light and as much as you can get, but really?  Windows that line up with ours?  Well thankfully the trees were in the way of that… or so they were.

Timber once again as the neighbour cuts down all the trees (on his side of the property so his right) and leave us with a clear view into his house.  So by this point I’m thinking, what the hell is next.  Why cedar bushes are next! Because who doesn’t like mosquito infested brush lining the property?

At the end of the day it’s his property to do with as his pleases – and if it weren’t for the fact I like the neighbourhood I live in, I’d probably be more amped up to move. Here’s to the next 30 years…