I Write Therefore I Am

I joined “Writing 101” in hopes to stay on my blogging game.  I’ve struggled with keeping up with my blog since I started it five years ago. I talk about that often in a lot of my posts. These posts usually start off apologizing for how long it’s been since I last blogged. I have a lot to say, but I always wonder why people would even be interested in anything I said. So I would go months and months without updating anything. I’ve slowly learned over the years to stop worrying about what other people think. After all, I will be 30 next year – my amount of “things I worry about” have greatly diminished.

I’ve recently gotten back into running. Back in 2011/2012, I was running seven miles 2-3 times a week. I know I can do it, but I’ve gotten a little older and gained some weight, so it will be a challenge. My goal is to run a half marathon next spring. There will be an influx of posts about exercise now.

I enjoy cooking. LOVE it. I love experimenting with new foods. I watch just about every show on Food Network. I’m always in awe of how these chefs can think of their feet. I learn a lot through these cooking shows. One of the bests feelings is watching someone smile and tell you how good their meal is.  I don’t do it for recognition. I wouldn’t care if people didn’t know who made their meals. I just like making people full and happy.

I’ve recently been diagnosed as an insomniac – but let’s be real, all insomniacs sort of already know that’s what they have but wait a really long time to just “deal with it.” I’ve had sleeping issues since I was in high-school. So I’ll be blogging about my journey through these sleep study logs.

I love writing. I need to jot down my thoughts or the thoughts just rumble around inside my head and I cannot concentrate on the task at hand. One of these days I will start working on that book I’m going to publish…

Feel free to poke around my blog and sign my guestbook!

XOXO
Megs

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Blogging 201: Set Three Goals

Today’s assignment: consider what you want to accomplish with your blog. Write down three concrete goals you want to achieve. 

When I took the Blogging 101 class, I connected with so many new bloggers and learned a lot of tricks with WordPress. I was very impressed with the course so I decided to follow the Blogging 201 course. I wasn’t able to get into the registration to see the private thread for them, but I can still do the assignments! 🙂

Here are my goals:

• Publish three times each week
• Establish a new weekly feature on my blog by the end of Feb (I’m thinking of doing Wordless Wednesdays or maybe Sunday Morning Poetry…?) to start posting the first week in March.
• Gain 200 new WordPress followers for my blog by my birthday: April 4th (Current count 744).

Posting three times a will will probably be a huge challenge for me! So hopefully I can find enough to babble about! 🙂

xoxo
Megs

A Day In The Life

I don’t think it’s a secret that I commute to work every day. I wrote about it a few times on my blog, but Twitter is where I spit out random thoughts during my rides home. I use ” #MetraTravels” in my tweets if you want to follow it!!! The people are fairly interesting – especially if I’m taking a late train home. Anyway, I’ve had many people ask me what my day is like since I do travel to get to work. So, naturally, I decided to write a post about it. 🙂

(Prior to Nov 6th, 2014)

5:15am: The dreaded alarm. I try (key word “try”) to wake up Josh. He isn’t a morning person. Many people aren’t. I’m definitely not judging him! Okay fine, maybe I am a little!

5:20am: Josh is sleeping again. He needs a lot of coaxing to get out of bed. Usually after five minutes, I can convince him to get moving and into the shower.

5:45am: I refuse to get my butt out of bed until Josh is out of the shower. Why? Well, he forgets I need to use the bathroom and locks the door behind him. Trust me, babe, no boogie man is up this early in the morning… He finally gets out around this time, and then I get out of bed and begrudgingly find work clothes.

6:00am: Josh and I hop into the car and head to Great Lakes.

6:46am: Since Josh works at the Naval base, he drops me off at the Great Lakes metra station. He could drop me off in Kenosha, but I’d rather spend the extra time with him in the morning. Besides, the train that he would drop me off at in Kenosha is the same one that arrives at this time, so I might as well enjoy sitting in a car for part of the way instead of on those uncomfortable metra seats!

8:02am: My train arrives downtown at Oglivie.

8:15am: Some mornings, I will go and work out at the gym across the street – FFC. The mornings I don’t go to the gym, I’ll sit in Starbuck and drink coffee and do some reading/writing. Or I’ll go bother the friends I have on a different floor.

9:30am: Start work

6:00pm: End of shift

6:30pm: I work only two blocks away from the train station, so I can leisurely walk on over to Oglivie to catch my train. I usually fall asleep before we even leave the station!

7:57pm: Arrive back in Kenosha. Josh is always waiting for me with a smile on his face. 🙂

8:30pm: Josh and I have been kinda bad at planning out dinners lately. So we have to visit Festival almost every day to buy something to make for dinner. Most of the employees know who we are… that’s how often we are there! Is it acceptable to be a regular at the grocery store??

10:00: After dinner, Josh and I will watch some TV and relax, except bed time rolls around very quickly!! Around this time, I try to convince Josh that I need to go to bed, but he convinces me to watch another episode of “Chicago Fire.”

Super thrilling, I know!! I told you my life wasn’t as exciting as you all thought! 🙂 I am very excited to announce, though, that my hours at work have finally shifted!! So – the quick version: I get downtown at 8:02, run over to Starbucks – it’s a must so don’t judge me – then I start work at 8:15, end at 4:45, RUN over to the train station, depart Oglivie at 5:03, and arrive home to my lovely boyfriend at 6:27pm.

Most people say that they couldn’t handle commuting every single day. I absolutely LOVE Chicago and I love working here. I get asked if I miss living here: No I don’t. I do NOT miss the high rent. Working down here is all I need to get my fill of Chicago. Sure, hanging out for happy hour and wandering downtown after work can be fun, but I couldn’t imagine my life any other way right now.

xoxo
megs

October Bloopers

Oh the joys of working in a customer service based setting. Technically, I’m a SCCG Account Rep. That means “Sales Contact Center Government Rep.” We take all the incoming calls from customers – who are supposed to be with a government entity – and get them to the correct contact. For anyone who doesn’t know where I work, I’m with CDW. We are an Information Technology reseller – we seem to be a target for some crazy calls. I decided that I needed to document this every month.

Enjoy the bloopers!

——————————————————–

Customer had me look up this product:
Customer: “So if i buy this and wrap tv on cart, it secure, right?”
Me: “Wait, you want to use this to secure a TV to a cart? Like, to move from room to room?
Customer: “No. In car. I don’t want to fall when driving.”
Me: “I would not do that.”
Customer: “I can buy and try, though?”
Me: “I can’t stop you from buying anything, but I wouldn’t do it. You can test that out if you would like however, I need you to be aware that when your tv falls and breaks, CDW is not liable.”

Yikes.

——————————————————–

Customer: “Sooo I bought this wireless mouse from ya’ll. Over the summer we lost that part thingy that goes into the computer. Will the mouse still work without that piece?”
Me: “No it will not work.”
Customer: “I can return it then right?”
Me: “No. Return policy doesn’t cover items that were misplaced.”
Customer: “Well, I’ll just say that we never received it.”
Me: “Except you just told me you lost it.”

Wow.

——————————————————–

Customer (in a robot voice): “Can I talk to the president?”
Me (knowing darn well who he wanted, I pretended that he wanted to talk to the president of CDW): “Tom Richards? No – we can’t transfer you to him. What is this in regards to?”
Customer: “Um no, ma’am. Obama. Don’t you know who are president is???”
Me: “I’m very aware of whom our President is. Are YOU aware that you called an Information Technology company?
Customer: “Yes.”
Me: “And what makes you think that a reseller can connect you to Obama?”
Customer: “Well, shit. I don’t know.”

I hung up.

——————————————————–

Customer: “Hi. Do you want to hear a joke?”
Me: “No. I don’t. Thanks for asking. Good-bye.”

I hung up

——————————————————–

Customer: “Ma’am. I need some help.”
Co-worker: “Okay, what can I help you with?”
Customer: “I need to learn how to jump out of an airplane. You can teach me right?”
Co-worker: “Ummm… yeah sure. I can’t guarantee you’d end up alive afterwards.”
Customer: “Well what good are you then?”

Ha, really???

——————————————————–

Do You Really Want To Know

It (sometimes) seems strange to me that other people are so interested in my life. Okay, well, to be honest, it’s actually a mix of a bunch of emotions: flattered… curious… skeptical… scared… I mean, should I be scared? I’m kidding. Mostly.

But really. I would like to know what makes people find a blog they like and stick with it. What does that blogger do to keep people coming back time after time? I feel like there could be such a range of answers for this. Are people more inclined to read blogs if the blogger actually interacts with the readers on social media? I think so. I know I am way more inclined to read other people’s blogs when they take the time to respond to something I said to them.

I go on these irrational hiatuses time after time. I really don’t know why. I do have a lot to say, but I think that a lot of these thoughts don’t get expressed on here because I don’t hide under an alias. My real name is Megan and everyone knows that. I don’t want to ever be that kind of blogger who constantly complains or puts people down. I definitely know a few of those kinds of people. It’s such a huge turn off. I am however, a woman with many opinions. So I get stuck in this limbo of “should I really write this publicly?” or “Do you really want to know?”

I think it’s hard to differentiate between what’s appropriate to blog about when in an emotional high about something. I’ve seen many people bash their own boyfriends on a blog. It’s totally disrespectful. I get that some people need an outlet. I know I do. But I don’t want to post something publicly just because I got hot-headed. Do I write about it? Absolutely. I write about it privately. Then I 9/10 delete it. Or print it out and burn it.

DO any of you fellow bloggers have any advice about what lines you decide to not cross? Do you even have lines to cross? Have you ever regretted something you posted about?

Maybe soon I’ll have more updates. Especially in my “Adventures In Coffee” category.

But until next time!

XOXO
Megs

My Caffeine Addiction

Denial
I blame my job for my caffeine addiction. Starbucks gift cards appeared on my desk regularly. Am I supposed to ignore them? No way. Free coffee! And not just any coffee. Starbucks Coffee. Starbucks! Fill it up, please!

That’s where it all started. My job. And my commute. It wasn’t my fault. I needed caffeine. Needed it! I did not have a problem! I woke at four thirty in the morning, left the Kenosha metra station at five fifty-one (yes, exactly that time!), arrived downtown Chicago at seven thirty, had training from eight in the morning until six in the evening, got back on the train at six thirty, and arrived back in Kenosha just before eight at night. To top it off, I still had to drive back home to Racine, which took a half hour, and then shovel my face with some leftovers for dinner. Alone. Because, really, how could I expect anyone to wait that long for dinner? But then, yes there’s more, I had to do homework. Yes homework! I averaged roughly five hours of sleep.

You’re exhausted just reading that aren’t you?

I’m exhausted from reliving that.

So see, clearly, it wasn’t my fault. The need for coffee surpassed any desires to work in the morning. And then, of course, again once two in the afternoon rolls around. Caffeine doesn’t stick around forever. Must replenish.

Intervention
OK fine. I had a problem.

After my move to Chicago from Racine, I drank coffee less often. And by “less,” I mean once a day instead of three. That counts right? . Month after month passed, each with an excuse to feed my coffee addiction due to lack of sleep:

I couldn’t put the book down!
The voices grumbling inside my head made me write poetry.
The dishes needed a cleaning.
Cramps. Enough said.
My laundry won’t wash itself!
Seriously, my dresser is this dusty?
My roommate kept me up.
Ugh, another migraine.
The car alarm sounded again. For the third time. At three in the morning.
But my nails need to match my outfit for tomorrow!
I swear there’s a boogie man under my bed…

But finally, I put my foot down. Enough was enough. With my hand upon my hip, I tapped my foot and shook my finger at myself. I wasted more money at Starbucks than I care to admit. I begrudgingly handed my coffee-addicted coworkers any remaining gift cards and stopped. Cold turkey. That was it.

Recovery
Fourty days later, I’m caffeine free. No coffee. No caffeinated tea. Not even excedrin migraine! Nothing. Okay, yes I still had chocolate. That’s an addiction I will never recover from, but that’s another story. But it doesn’t count as an addiction because I’m admitting to it, right? Besides, do you know how much chocolate you need to have the same amount of caffeine as a small cup of coffee? Way too much

Don’t think this was an easy-peasy accomplishment. Week one. Headaches. Caffeine withdrawal. I wanted that coffee. I needed that caffeine. Every. Single. Morning. It was a habit. I needed the headaches to take a hike and bother someone else. I couldn’t focus. I’d pop ibuprofen here and there. But I needed to just deal with it. Suck it up, Buttercup!

After many long and dreaded mornings, I just stopped wanting coffee. As a matter of fact, after the second week, I didn’t even want coffee. Those two weeks seemed like a month at the time! I never needed the 2pm pick me up, though. I drank caffeine-free tea so I could still fit in with the cool kids getting coffee every morning. But that was it. Never cheated.

So here I am, on the 41st day. I made a full 40 days… But wait, “it’s the 41st day but you only made it 40 days” you ask.

I had a cup of coffee today. I didn’t really need it. I wasn’t craving it. I justified drinking a cup because I hadn’t had any in 40 days. I couldn’t possibly be addicted, right? My heart raced more rapidly than I expected and soared above my comfort zone of level of “this is a normal heartbeat” thought. Regret sank in when I became too jittery to focus. I swear the office had shiny objects everywhere. I was uncomfortable with the effects of coffee.

And so begins the journey of another 40 days caffeine free. Let’s hope it doesn’t inspire another boring blog post.

Tea anyone?

Daily Prompt: All About Me

From the Daily Writing Prompt: “Explain why you chose your blog’s title and what it means to you”

My last name never appealed to me. Whenever I say my last name, my mouth becomes this tainted hole with remnants of nail polish remover lingering inside: pungent, bitter, venomous. Bad memories plant themselves into my mind and expand and fill my head with grey clouds and rain and empty bottles of wine. I concluded only with one thought: expunge my last name from my life. I craved the sunflowers, jazz music, and chocolate ice cream dripping down my arm on a humid day. Thus, “Megan Elizabeth” emerged.

Growing Pains? Try Writing Pains!

I want all the beautiful witty words trapped inside my head to escape and splatter onto a vacuous page as I think them—each word strategically placed creating perfect harmony between the paper, the words and the mind: the harmony swirls and spins creating its melody. It whirls around violently,
quickly,
flawlessly,
as swiftly as a freshly fallen red-orange leaf flutters in the Autumn breeze,
to create the perfect blend of content and character, sprinkled with a dash of humor. For without humor, words become nothing but a mound of letters: letters which lack emotion and feeling; they morph into dry and monotonous splotches of ink on paper. Phlegmatic words do not absorb meaning. I must choose my words carefully. The potency of the words bares the most meaning with the readers.
If I fail seducing my readers, my stories remain unread,
untouched,
empty;
the appeal vanishes: it becomes incognito among the vast amounts of writers who somehow manage to coexist in the world. But it would be as if my words never existed.
Have you ever thought about what it would be like to not exist? Not in death. You’re alive. But not existing. Would it be like screaming in the middle of a crowd, but no one can hear you? No one can see you? Would you collapse to your knees in horror, dismissing the jagged rocks puncturing through you while the blood crawling out of your gash warms your chilled skin because, even then, you can feel the pain, but you do not exist?

But we cannot always have what we want.
Letters pretending to be words spew out on the page forming madness that not even I understand.
Content falls flat.
Then, the cursor becomes stagnant.
My unwritten words cannot seduce you.
I stare at a parched blank page: a page lusting for words drenched in meaning and character to fill the void. The creativity trapped within my brain will not sprinkle itself onto the paper; it cannot pry itself out of the nest it created.
My bloodshot eyes drift slowly upon the dollop of ripped out hair set neatly aside my coffee cup. I cannot remember if that was cup two or three. The pain trickles slowly down my spine—almost like maple syrup: it slowly weeps from top to bottom leaving a smudge of pain which refuses to leave—to my ass, which flattened from sitting on a hard bench. Oh, the wonderful signs of writer’s block!

Here I am.
Writing something.
Here you are.
Reading something.
I presume most people read to distract themselves from the pathetic emptiness of their meaningless, consumer-driven lives….*
Wait.
Someone already said that.
Shit.

“What now?” You ask.
Let me tell you this: once you’ve found a cure, please let me know.
I want to exist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*From “10 Things I Hate About You.”