booknboob.com Blog

Believe it or not: even though I stayed in tonight, even though I planned on turning myself over to some serious family time, the boys went to bed early.  Again, I was left to my own devices.  I thought that maybe this time I should do something dirty.  (What that means exactly, I don’t know.)  But, I decided to work on my web site instead.  Oh, innocent me.

(Don’t be so approving, we’re clean out of money for alcohol and gas.  I had little choice but to play the school girl.)

Anyhow, it’s 11:45 and all is well.

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Today I am void of anxiety and the words are seeming to flow better.  So, I finished the rough draft of my first page.

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The studio formerly known as “my yoga studio” which is certainly now someone else’s yoga studio has a cute little framed picture of a dancing bear above the toilet.  I don’t usually go for the dancing-bear-in-frame motif, but above this this particular teddy (one might have once referred to it as “my teddy”) are the words: Remember to use positive affirmations.  I am not a dork is not one of them. 

I always chuckled at this little ha-ha because “I am not a dork” is my kind of affirmation. Along with:  I am not a loser.  I am not a cow.  And, I am not destined to be another slug popped and gutted under the iron heel of mediocrity.

When I try on phrases such as: I am hip.  I am sexy.  I am both intelligent and talented and am a virtual giant of creativity.  I just sound like a fraud.

(Yeah, I should also try on the phrase “Even though I’m a language arts teacher, I don’t know a good goddamn about grammar.”  Yes, that explains the odd jumble of colons and periods and the lack of quotation marks or whatever.)

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Oh my Lord!  It’s been over a month.

A silent 34 days.

Enough time to lose one’s precious readership…

Sadly, I stopped posting just moments after declaring that I was ready to my to “take my blog to the next level.”

Some level.

Do I smell a bout of self-defeatism?  Or, just a mere pause?  A pathetic vomitous irony? Or a long, breathless moment designed to gather my thoughts?

(A big thanks to Tata who not only took my declaration seriously but offered up her advice.  I am sorry, sorry, sorry to disappoint.  But, am still grateful, grateful, grateful for the advice.)

I wish I could commit to end the ceasefire and just blast away– one heated post after the next.

But, truth be told, I’m tired.

I could rant on and on about why I’ve been tired.  Author a novella about a sick and increasingly obstinate 14-month-old (who blatantly refuses to walk!!!).  Concoct a cast of characters that include a TV-obsessed husband, a room full of pre-adolescent psychos, and a Jehovah woman that just won’t leave well enough alone.

But, I’m past all that.  Of course I am.  And one day, I’m going to be a real writer.

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About 30 minutes ago I commented to my husband about how, when I get home from work, I would like, just once, to be able to sit down on the back deck and relax. ‘Cause that just ain’t been happenin’ since I’ve become a workin’ mama.

So, in the spirit of all cosmic coincidences in which “you [might not] always get what you want… but, you get what you need”, I’d like to give a Hoo-Yah to toddlers heading to bed early and without a fuss, to patio furniture received for Mother’s Day, for Marigolds and a pumpkin patch that not only outlasted the drought but are vying to be prizewinners, and for cool, mild October temperatures and leaves just beginning to change. Oh yeah, and for Flying Dog Double Dog IPA. Ahhhhhh… A toast to my Calgon moment!

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