Skip to main content

Interest

I've lost interest.
In knitting. In talking with friends. In walking the dog. In writing...this blog or pretty much anything at all. A grocery list on a post-it note would be pushing it.
I've lost interest in watching tv. Or reading a trashy novel. Or watching the changing leaves fall from the trees.

Do you know how much it hurts to be disinterested in just about everything in your life? To be disengaged. To be nearly numb. To wonder how long it will be before the fog lifts and the feeling returns. If any feeling will return. Ever.

The one thing I haven't lost interest in -- sleep. I close my eyes, nestle deep into the covers and disappear.

I'm just not interested in waking up.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Amy, thinking about you and hoping you are feeling better soon. -Tom
Anonymous said…
I'm thinking of you and missing you. When you are feeling interested in a chat with an old friend, will you drop me an e-line? XXXXOOOO Lory A
Anonymous said…
praying you're feeling much better since your last post....love you,
kerry p.

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

So, I Changed My Mind

More than four years ago, the blog and I parted ways. I needed a change. A whole lot happened in my world since then. I switched jobs a couple times. My kid went from an elementary school tween to a teenage high schooler. We built a new house and moved. Both my parents and my sister have passed. The world around me changed as well. Mass shootings, racism, the #metoo movement, a misogynistic bigoted narcissist in the White House ... go ahead, add to the list. Toss your woes into this dumpster fire we call 2019.  I appreciate my previous sentiment, that I was no longer wandering. But let's be honest, we're all trying to find our way through this mess. I decided to reboot the blog to give myself a creative outlet, a way to sort through the confusion and frustration and attempt to make sense of it all. I have a voice, and I'm not keen to silence it anymore. Guess what? I'm back, bitches.

In memoriam...

I remember the first time I heard the name "Les Anderson." A bunch of Wichita State University communication majors were sitting around on campus, talking about classes they planned to take. Several people warned me: watch out for Les Anderson. He was tough. He had a murderous grading scale. It was nearly impossible to get an A. They weren't kidding. But he wasn't tough just to be a tyrant. From his teaching sprang a fleet of incredible, successful journalists, writers, editors, broadcasters, public relations experts, advertisers, non-profit professionals...I could go on and on. Most importantly, he created a legion of people who wanted to make a difference in the world. The greatest gift Les gave to them all? He believed in them, cared about them for their own personal stories as well as the stories they told for class assignments or in the pages of his hometown newspaper. Les was my teacher. My boss. My mentor. My conscience. My champion. My friend. When I started c...