makin moves.

I've had this weight of "what have I done?" sitting on my chest the past few days. Only now, I kind of just slapped myself across the face and answered myself, "Exactly what you should be doing, dumbass."
So, let me back it up. I've been dealing with the "what am I doing? where am I going?" questions for, oh, I don't know, always, but have had more of a need to start answering those questions and have kind of felt backed into a corner. No one's keeping me there, I just couldn't move.
So, just like my best friend reminded me over drinks the other night, "If you're gonna get what you want, better make your move." And, I did.
I asked a former peer and friend if I could write for two local magazines she's now the editor of. I felt a little bit like I was going out on a limb, but definitely a sturdy one. I was excited by her response, which was excitement as well.
And, then, the assignment came. It wasn't the topic that put the lump of dread in my coffee that morning, it was the "oh, shit. I don't know how to be a reporter anymore. I hate doing interviews and ohmygod deadlines." That was the weight that took residence of my chest. Just total dread. I don't have time for this. I don't want to have to dig up sources. I don't know how to write like a reporter anymore. Where's my AP Stylebook? I probably need a new one because its as outdated as me. I can't. I don't. What have I done?
I did what I used to do. I spent the weekend partying with friends and avoiding any shred of responsibility that could possibly make its way into my line of vision and then Sunday got here.
I had made an appointment to interview the man in charge of the art exhibit I had been assigned to write about and I did possibly everything I could've done to put off making that call until it got right to the minute that it would look unprofessional to not dial those numbers.
And, y'all. Let me tell you. That reporter hat went on my head so fast I didn't know how it got there. It was an amazing conversation and I just felt that fire I had mentioned get warmer and warmer. I beelined for my computer as soon as I got off the phone with my little yellow legal pad and just poured it out. Already over the word count I had been given and was worried I wouldn't be able to fill it to begin with.
Turns out, this source was a former editor and senior writer for Southern Living magazine. Turns out the subject matter of this particular story is one that I used to be so passionate about. It brings all of my forgotten loves back into my life. Writing and history and art and people. Stories and life.
Are we onto something? Are we getting somewhere? No, really, what am I doing? Where am I going?