I'm not really sure what I'm doing here.

I'm not really sure what I'm doing here. This is my second week of my first semester not being in school and working (almost) full-time, and I'm really having trouble getting used to it. More and more I can see that working a job like this and writing in my time off isn't going to make me happy, mostly because it's like pulling teeth to get myself to write lately. I don't know if it's because I'm tired or checked out, but it seems to me that all I ever do anymore when I get off work is drink wine and watch movies or TV. And yes, that is what I'd like to do someday, but I should be working on it right now. I watch enough TV and movies that I should be writing about them. Even if they're just short little blog posts. Maybe that's why I'm starting this. To have a place to go that isn't a journal or a word document to force myself into recording thoughts I have about the things I do on a daily basis. Writing has never been this hard for me before, but lately I feel empty. Paralyzed. There are six notebooks on my desk in various states of use, with to-do lists and plans and daily attempts at beginning and old poems that need new life, and my quasi-OCD brain is balking at writing anything down because I can't figure out where to put it all. I'm trying to organize my words before they are written. Hopefully here I can let all that go. One blog post a day, whether I'm working or not, that's my goal for this week. We'll see how it goes from there.