 I joke a lot about my propensity toward OCD. I freely admit that I am a hyper-organized control freak. Detailed. Particular. Meticulous. Ahem, anal retentive.
Let me go ahead and offer a disclaimer so none of my readership (all six of you) gets offended. I am aware that Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a medically recognized condition that can be debilitating to its sufferers. I understand that it can, and often does, impede activities of daily living. The acronym is used flippantly (and usually inaccurately) to describe nutty people like me who write to-do lists just to cross crap off of them. But mental illness is no joke. I have several people in my life who have been ravaged by acute anxiety, bi-polar disorder, OCD, ADHD and various other brain synapse irregularities. In order to function normally, they require medication, counseling or behavior modification (sometimes all three). I have nothing but respect and empathy for them and their circumstances. Yes, I am very grateful that I am not afflicted with any of the aforementioned mental illnesses, but that is not going to stop me from lobbing the occasional self-deprecating grenade at some of my own extremist tendencies.
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 As I was flipping through one of the trashy magazines I brought to the pool with me the other day, I came across the headline on a photo of Jennie Garth — you know, Kelly from 90210 — that referred to her as a “single parent.” My first reaction as I stared at this perfectly put-together celeb, smiling from ear to ear in her designer gown was, “Fuck her… she’s no single parent.”
Ahem, where did THAT come from? See, my only son, Ethan’s, father was a contributing parent for a sum total of five out of his 18 years. (In other words, not for long.) The rest of the time, he was MIA and the responsibility for raising our child fell solely in my lap. I’m not nailing myself up on a cross here, expecting a standing ovation or even a pat on the back, but it ticks me off to be grouped under the same moniker as someone who clearly has a hell of a lot more resources than I ever did.  I’ve had a snarled ball of anxiety in my chest since last Wednesday. It’s rare that I get tied up in knots over anything these days. I’m more laid back than I’ve ever been in my whole life, which makes the issue that’s got me going nutty even more exasperating. It’s been effing with my serenity in a major way, and frankly, this will not stand, man.
What has got me all out of sorts, you ask? Well, the bane of my existence is a mandated, and very untimely, modification in my technological capabilities. In other words, I am being forced to change my e-mail address.  UofL champs with Ferdinand's Ball founders Something that’s really astonished me about my new freelance gig is the amount of interest I’ve had in my PR and media relations services.
See, when I first envisioned going out on my own, I assumed that my only marketable skill — y’know, the one that would make money — was my writing. I mean, hello? I am a trained print journalist, so this seems like a pretty natural conclusion, right? Yeah, I pictured myself in my home office, dressed in yoga pants and a ponytail, tippy-tapping away on my MacBook Pro keyboard, completing assignments for corporate marketing departments, advertising and web agencies, industry blogs and local publications.  If I had started this blog a few years ago, I would have used it as a venue to bitch and complain about all of the people, places and things that pissed me off. At the time, there was no shortage of all three.
Sure, my poisonous thinking might’ve produced some entertaining prose, but all that soul-sucking pessimism really accomplished was to feed my overall unhappiness. Today (thank God), the cynic in me is dead and buried, and I don’t want to use this space to resurrect her. My life is VERY good, and I attribute that primarily to an overwhelmingly positive attitude and an optimistic faith that everything, ultimately, will be OK. All that said, I have been dwelling on one particular nugget of negativity so much during the past few months that I’ve decided to write it down here in the hopes that I can finally LET. IT. GO.  I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the groundwork of starting and building a business. Understandable, since I’m kinda in the middle of the building part right now.
I’m pretty secure about the services I’m selling – the marketable skills of writing, editing and media relations consulting. But when it comes to the back-end of actually running a business that’s financially solvent and in legal compliance with the IRS and other government entities, I’m not quite as confident. |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
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