Yes. In a past life, I was a Journalism student. Years later, I evolved to being a Communications Specialist.
I was THE Communications Specialist. I always enjoyed writing.
Immortalizing my thoughts through the written word appeals to my ego, so of course, a writing gig made sense.
I also have a unique point of view. You see, I’m not bossy, I just have better ideas.
I enjoy equal parts the pretence of influence as much as an audience.
So….yes. I did write. Many, many things. Strategic plans, course curriculum, policies, proposals, reports, blogs, speeches, citations …just to name a few.
I’m also a self-proclaimed builder. A penchant for lego in the early days, I also like to create, conceptualize, expand on ideas and see them implemented.
Writing satisfies all these things.
My favourite writing assignments were always meeting minutes, because I’d like to think my version of events sounded far more eloquent than what actually transpired.
“Excuse me Lidia, could you make me sound less articulate?”
Thankfully that only happened twice.
I enjoyed writing, but it was more the kind of bureaucratic, vanilla flavoured propaganda that siphons any type of creativity. The kind of stuff that makes you not want to write anymore. At least not for pleasure.
So, after years of enjoying each other’s company, Writing and I broke up.
Forever the class act, Writing will tell you it was mutual and we’re still quite amicable with each other.
Honest to a fault, I’ll admit I was completely unfaithful, the immediacy of Netflix and Karaoke equally responsible for the break up.
After some time away, I realized I wanted to make things “write” again.
Enter this scenario.
A few months ago, I started a new job in a land far, far away.
I became a Commuter! In the past, commuting to work meant either a 17 minute stroll door to door, 2.5 minute car ride or 5 minute bus trip with stops literally in front of my house and directly across the street.
By the time you hit your snooze button twice, I’m en route to work. One car ride, two trains and a streetcar later, I make it to my job in foreign lands.
It sounds far more horrific than it is. I actually enjoy it.
I’m proud of being a commuter and what it represents for me.
Last spring, I chose to leave my job after 13 years. My home away from home was not a place I wanted to be anymore.
We’ll leave it at that.
In a short amount of time, I’ve experienced colossal changes in both my professional and personal life that have cultivated a new normal.
I’m easily amused so lots of interesting things happen en route to work. With a commute, there’s extra time to reflect, observe and generate potentially interesting content for social media.
So…I’m not quite sure which direction this blog is going to take. Ok, it will be Eastbound in the morning and Westbound at night. Content wise…anything goes.
It might be my version of what actually occurs on the red rocket and big green monster.
It might just be my random musings.
It will be an attempt for me and Writing to reconcile.
Through all of life’s changes, Writing is inexpensive therapy and has always been there.
Karaoke and Netflix were just for fun.
They didn’t mean anything.
Let’s hope Writing will take me back, and we can get to that loving place we used to be.
I promise to be faithful. I will work on myself.
And, in the words of my good friend Maury;
“The lie detector determined, she was telling the truth.”