I love to talk and think and write. I often write like I talk, without thinking. In order to keep my hunky, paragon-of-patience husband from fleeing as he should have long ago, I realized I needed an outlet before the chaos in my head exploded or imploded or whatever kind of potentially harmful outcome comes from keeping your thoughts to yourself for too long. I have two children that are constant sources of joy and angst and as I look at them and am reminded of my own dysfunctions, I can’t help but laugh and feel awe at their antics.
I also have a theory that with practice, my writing may improve and my use of run-on sentences may be curbed. We can only hope.