Outlets

I've become a real nag. 

Not by choice.  But by necessity.  At my day job at the restaurant, I nag. 

"Don't forget to drop silverware to Table 46!  Pick up that orange juice glass at the server stand!! Who forgot to water the damn poinsettas?! "

Then I drive home for 9 blissful minutes.  And once again, I commence with the nagging. 

"Did you make your bed? Stop hitting your sister! You're not allowed to blow your nose on my coat.  Why are you still hitting your sister?! "

I've started to hate the sound of my own voice.  I don't want to have to be in charge of these things.  But nevertheless, I am; therefore, I nag. 

It makes me fearful of what I've become. 

And then I remember: I have an outlet.  I have a place where my voice isn't used to put things in their place.  A place where I choose what I want to say.  A place where I actually enjoy saying it. 

The ol' trusty piano bench.   

Reader, everybody needs an outlet.  To some people, it's a punching bag.  To others, it's a notebook.  Some see it as a mountain trail. Others find it in a blank canvas. Whatever it looks like to you, don't forget to escape to your happy place.  If it goes too long, you wind up like me: forgetting that we are not what we do all day long for necessity sake.  We are what we do by choice.  

With that, I plan to start looking around to plan my 2022 songwriting sabbatical.  Whatever you're up to this week, I wish you moments of escape from all you do for necessity sake.  You are more than what you have to do to get things done. I'll see you next Monday. -Em

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