For some reason, I'm going through all of the articles I wrote for Charlottesville Tomorrow from the time of my hiring in April 2007. I'm going through them to try to remember how that time of my life felt.
And not much else.
Back then I had a life. Now I mostly have the work. Today is the fourth anniversary of the newsletter and podcast I began in order to give myself something to do. All I ever wanted to do was be a journalist who writes about the community and now that's what I do.
And not much else.
I don't like to meet other people anymore because that might influence the stories I have to write. I first began to feel this phenomenon when I was at Charlottesville Tomorrow, and that was my job. Then it wasn't my job and six years ago I was at another one where I had to tell people what to think.
I barely know what to think, only that thoughts pass through me like clouds. Sometimes they are connected and other times they are not and today is a day I want to make sense of it.
To do that, I'm not allowing myself to write anything or work on anything at all except until I allow myself to do so. I have learned that when thoughts are leading to unhappy places, it's best to disengage and halt for a moment.
Perhaps it is time to write some of these thoughts here, semi-public, with almost no idea anymore if anyone reads any of it. With a sometimes notion that none of this is real. Now it must be time to get back up and move around the house for this is a time when I've already connected one story and I don't know if I can do another.
But of course I can. I am here to weave and thread and plot out a mosaic and that's all I can do so it's what I will do today.
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