Lost My Way to the Theme Park

Once again, I remembered to write Theme Park too late at night on Sunday.

But now it's Tuesday. Let's just call yesterday unsuccessful. I was foggy, and barely convincing my body to cooperate for normal tasks, but I never got my brain started. I exercised, I drank coffee, and nothing. I suspect it was a sleep hangover - my body doesn't seem to know how to process a full 8 hours of sleep. I'm going to have to have a chat with it because I, like most people, am very fond of 8 hours of sleep.

Anywho.

Since beginning my weekly Theme Park posts, most of my frustration and dissapointment in our current residence has faded. I look at this as a positive thing. I know that we aren't here forever, and that our living here now will serve a greater purpose in our future. At least that is what I keep telling myself.

The past week has been spent running, reading, and cleaning. I ran 12 miles last week, which is not a lot for a serious runner. None-the-less, its a huge accomplishment for me.

Books I've read recently include:
- The Nonrunner's Marathon Guide for Women by Dawn Dias
- The Scarletti Curse by Christine Feehan
- Catch of the Day by Kristan Higgins
- Call of the Writer's Craft by Tom Bird (this is my current read-in-progress)

I've found myself on a roller coaster these days. I've felt incredibly inspired (unfortunately this inspiration hits around 11 pm) to run/exercise, write, be the perfect housewife all at the same time. Then I coax myself to sleep and when I wake up in the morning, the inspiration is gone. Being a night owl with 2 small kids who don't go to school is not an option. I battle moments of feverish motivation followed by days of complete dispair. I constantly feel as though I don't have time, don't have the talent/drive, and it's downright frustrating. Mustache Man is ever encouraging and supportive, and I thank God for him.

My figuative wall is all the criticism I recieved from my mother while I was growing up. How being a writer isn't a REAL job that will pay the bills, that I'm not good enough, and that I just need to marry a doctor/lawyer/Ichiro. I kid you not, she used to tell me that I should marry Ichiro. Money is a sign of success to the woman-who-gave-me-life. How do you get past your figurative road blocks?