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Sometimes I just want to put on a Lionel Richie album and lie on my bed and let his vocal stylings carry me away.

No, that's not exactly true.

When I see Metabolife commercials, I want to join up and drop several dress sizes and get fit and then a KFC commercial comes on and there are crunchy chicken sandwiches to be investigated.

I watch Oprah fairly often and sometimes I'm ready to take the train down to her studio and demand that she give me a job making copies or cleaning up after the audience. Sometimes I even go to Hotjobs.com and see if she's hiring. And if she is, I send out little pathetic resumes begging her to give me a chance, to show her that I, too, want to Use My Life and won't she lend a sister a hand?

But then she has a show about Shadow Beliefs and it's like she's speaking another language and I think...can I get behind that?

I don't know what I want.

I quit teaching to be a writer. I took a few half-hearted stabs at freelancing, then took a job writing for a trade magazine. To no one's surprise, it turns out that I did not enjoy writing about wood and wood products (although I'm proud of this article) and I left that position to work for a company that sells books to school libraries. You know, back to education, back to my roots. But at the last minute, I froze up. I didn't want to work in an office again. I wanted to write, dammit. So I turned that job down and went about setting up my own business (Parsley Publishing). I worked very hard on that business for a few months--I joined the local chamber of commerce, I went to marketing connection meetings, I had a table at a trade show, and...nothing. No one wanted me to make a pretty web page for them. No one wanted me to write content for their site. No love for Amy ParsleyPants.

I'm not giving up on my business. I'm giving some responsibility to Andy, because he can talk to strangers without getting mealy-mouthed and uncomfortable. He can sell my services better than I can. Networking makes me absolutely crazy. When I get around groups of businesspeople, I want to hide behind someone's skirt and just thrust my brochure at them and run, then talk to them over the phone or in e-mail from the safety of my office. I can do it if I have to...but I suck at it. Andy enjoys the bantering and the introductions and the hooking up with other businesses, so he's taking over the majority of the selling. I'm hoping that this will help get me a few customers so I can succeed.

Now that my business is established and I have my little staff of one toiling away, I need to concentrate more on my writing. It's what I've wanted to do since birth, it's what people tell me I'm good at, it's what I really enjoy doing, and WHY CAN'T I DO IT? I have the equipment, I have the time, I have the skill, I have the creativity and I am not yet doing it.

Oh, I am one paralyzed girl. Paralyzed because I'm not absolutely certain of success, paralyzed because I'm not perfect at writing so it's not easy, paralyzed because putting myself out there will mean people will come read my work and judge me.

If I continue to hover at the starting gate, I can remain in that euphoric state--"I'm following my dream! I'm working from home so I can write!" Then I get to hear people say, "That's great. I wish I could quit my job and do what I love. You're a great writer. You'll be so successful!"

Well, that wears a little thin when it's been two months and I haven't written anything except for entries in my journal about snacks and cows.

I've soliced advice from lots of people. Gael has been a wonderful source of information and inspiration. I admire her so much. Sara Astruc helped me birth my first submission piece. I feel completely not worthy when I think of my silly little writing compared to hers. But comparing my writing to anyone's isn't the way to work, is it?

Andy would like nothing more than for me to make a Plan. A Plan and a Schedule, and I'm off to the races. I resist. I make little plans, little schedules.

Then I rest.

Oh, I haven't told you, have I?

I am pregnant. Yes, yes, it's true. My body, it is a vessel. There is a baby the size of an olive growing inside of me. In October, we will get to meet it. Right now it is making me sick and tired, but it's all good. We are very excited. I will not use the pregnancy thing as an excuse for my slothfulness. I might take two naps a day, but there is plenty of writing time left.

I have some books here on my shelf that address the issues I'm having. The paralyzation issues. The fear issues. The perfection issues. I need to read those books and learn how to get myself out of this funk.

It's probably tied to this whole Shadow Belief thing...if she'd just call me...