So I’m slowly coming out of my ‘can’t be fucked’ ness – apologies to those who I’ve offended – it is just a word – and really the only word I can find that adequately describes how I’ve been feeling.

I could go on here about my word finding difficulties and severe memory issues that had me seriously wondering if it was possible to get Alzheimer’s in my 30’s (and yes apparently so) or had a brain tumour or another medical label that I have no intention of giving myself.

So just know, if I go off and die, please please in my honour would you stop sitting on your arse waiting for the right moment and go and live the fuck) out of your life, ok?

*Apologies again for swearing, it sadly becomes the default when the mind is tired, and possibly clogged up from metal poisoning from a filling I had 11 years ago….

And please. Just don’t. Now whatever you do, please don’t go on that I was ‘taken too soon’ or ‘how sad it is’ that I’m dead.
I’ll haunt you for that.
I lived.
And trust me, I sure have lived – if I hadn’t it would make writing a book so much easier. And it certainly hasn’t been easy. I already have another book in mind before I’ve even finished off my first one. It’s beckoning me to write it. Annoying me, actually.
It could be fair to say I lived pretty bloody well after I started to get the f**k (like what I did there?) out of the way of myself, and started clicking off mammoth goals that scared the living crap out of me.
But don’t get me wrong, this ain’t goodbye.
I more I do, learn, travel and experience life, the more I realise how much there is to do.

Sometimes my missions, goals, and dreams freak me out – how can I possibly have time for all of them before I die?
2 days ago I added Afghanistan to my ever expanding list of countries to explore. It just never stops. And I like it that way.

Now if life could just stand still whilst I wrote my book and then let me live 10 years of experiences, and then transport me back to my life right now – now that’s a real Santa Claus gift request if I ever did hear one.

Jez, I am digressing….

But this is a whole other story which makes things even more interesting when you’re currently writing a (soon to be best seller 😉 like again what I did there?) book on your travel experiences, interweaved with life experiences.
A huuuuge amount of pennies (tears, cringes, and laughter) have dropped.
It’s like having Therapy that you didn’t think you needed, nor did you want; and I’m all spiritual and personal developmental and shit and very open to therapy.

But this has been much more than that.

Writing a book has certainly been a different kind of adventure.

Rewarding?
Hmmmm possibly.

Draining?
Ah yes, definitely that’s an affirmative yes!

See I started getting addicted (back again) to helping people whilst in the midst of my writing – and riding my bike around new parts of the World I haven’t explored – adventures.
Writing the book was becoming deeply difficult, and combining that with computer and multiple hard drive issues which had me on the phone to Apple for days.
And I literally mean so many days and days that after 6 months Apple decided I’d been through enough turmoil of never to be recovered files and sanity that they replaced my out of warranty MacBook with a new $900 part.

Pretty freaken amazing.

And despite being all ‘what will be will be’ ‘it’s all happening perfectly’ ‘namaste’ and all, having to rewrite days of my book seemed ok on the surface, but deep down it ate at me like that disgusting torture technique with a hungry rat – I’m sorry if you decide to google that shit. I really am.

So I threw myself into helping people, and I did it with all my might. My sole purpose was to help women break through the blockages holding them back and start getting what they want in life.

I loved it. I was good at it. I was freaking good at it.

It fulfilled me. It gave me purpose. It gave me huge challenges. It gave me recognition and a sense of belonging. I was helping people succeed in their life!
Hell yeah!

But meanwhile my discarded book was thrown in the too hard basket. I was off chasing rainbows and Unicorns whilst the debt accumulated – and rainbows and Unicorns are there TO BE chased, but the gnawing ‘you said you were going to write a book’ burnt a hole.

So long story short, I got a bit burnt out.

I’m now in the midst of ‘what the hell did I get myself in for?!’ When I re read over my work sometimes I feel like it’s written like that hopeful 14 yr old trying to write in English class after learning of similies, personification and that almighty onomatopoeia. Robotic and clumsy work that is best discarded in trash.

And other times I can’t stop mentally hi-fiving myself, fist pumping and wildly head banging my head, wanting to post my sensational writing and have Facebook (you) gush over it all, boosting me up and telling what an amazing Writer I am.

But instead I do neither.

I throw those ‘you suck, you’re worthless and not good enough’ thoughts aside and I turn off the ‘you might think it’s sensational but others might not’ and I focus on the sentence I’m writing.

It’s really, by all accounts, not particularly glamorous.

I know exactly why so many people have unpublished manuscripts in their wardrobes, or discarded half written books.
Because holy moly it’s tough.
Jez Louise it’s tough.
Give me a 100km running race, or 7 day non stop Adventure Race any day (well of course I’m going to say that as I actually liked doing those things!)

So, here I go again. I’m writing a book.
In fact I really written a book, over 100,000 words so far and no I’ve still got a long long way to go – yes I know the editing part will be real fun. I can’t wait!

To keep you interested, I’m going to share a wee story from my book each week – gosh who am I kidding, this sharing thing is for me to keep it interesting!
So whether you’re interested or not, every Wednesday you can have a wee glimpse into life being explored by bicycle by yours truly (for your reference, that’s me.)

If you don’t think it’s good, then please don’t assert your assholiness. Just keep it to yourself.

But if you like it, please don’t be afraid to speak up. In a dark place of ‘I can’t be assed with this!’ multiple moments, you will light me up and keep me going.

I will be very grateful to you.

It’s quite a scary thing to do putting your honest (possibly too honest) life and experiences out for the whole World to read. But I’m committed and I’m doing it.

Just wait and see!
Upwards and on!