Today has been a strange day.

Mostly a bad day. Or maybe not.

I don’t really know anymore.

One probably shouldn’t blog in a melancholy mood, but at the same time – if it’s authentic and real – why the hell not?

So let’s see: Last night the dog attacked the cat and really – pardon my French – f*cked him up. I wasn’t actually in the immediate vicinity, but as I understand it, steak was involved and the (very food aggressive) Malamute noticed that the (very food aggressive) Himalayan cat was moving in, and he tore him a new one. Literally.

Fu’s chin is covered in stitches and he’s missing some fur by his left eye. He’s also QUITE emotionally traumatized.

As am I.

Add to the mix that not one, but TWO people I consider very close and important friends called me out on the carpet – separately and without much padding or candy coating – on all the ways I sabotage myself and make excuses and hold myself back and stay stuck in patterns that aren’t serving me.

This had nothing to do with the cat.

It just also happened to happen today.

So ouch.

Is there anyone that’s ever happy to hear this stuff about how we’re our own worst enemy? Even when we know it’s true?

Don’t get me wrong.

These were lectures given with love.

And they weren’t off-base.

Maybe the worst sentiment of the whole day was something along the lines of, “If I came to you with these excuses, you would kick my ass and give me really good advice and totally straighten me out. Why can’t you do that for yourself?”

Double ouch.

And yet…

I have been saying “the book will be done in a week or two” for…

I don’t know?

Ten weeks?

Twelve?

And  some of it is legit – my friend died brutally of a brain tumor, and I made a conscious decision to be there with her in those last months, and I’m so glad I did – but some of it is bullshit. In truth, I keep finding new ways to distract myself or chase other rainbows and what I really, really, really, really want to do – deep down and with every bone in my body – is finish this last editing and contact agents and sell this damn thing and realize a lifelong dream and make some money and effect the future of required reading lists and change the world, but I think I’m also totally scared and terrified and vulnerable and dealing with all that by sabotaging myself.

So my plans (to attend the Isha Yoga Inner Engineering program in Seattle this week) have been nixed, and I will – no more excuses – finish the book and contact at least a handful of agents by the end of next week.

I have to.

This has gone on long enough.

I’m so close it’s absurd.

Which is what I guess is what spawned the WTF!? lectures delivered at both 11am and 11pm today.

Or maybe it’s just some weird alignment of stars in the universe?

Either way, it worked.

Anyway, it just got me thinking about how we cling to our ways – good, bad, and indifferent – and this really sweet song by Cy Coleman (as sung by Fiona Apple because that’s what I could find on YouTube) about just that.

To anyone else out there getting in their own way: I can relate, and if you can’t do it for yourself, I wish for you that some dear friend comes along and gives you a dose of tough love sometime soon. Or if they don’t or if your friends are too polite, send me enough information that I can do it for you.

It’s no picnic.

You may cry.

It hurts…but in a good way.  xo