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Blog Details
Blog Directory ID: 19190 Get VIP Status?
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Google Pagerank: 1
Blog Description:

My outlook on daily life will inspire you and make you laugh.
Blog Added: December 01, 2014 09:49:52 AM
Audience Rating: General Audience
Blog Platform: WordPress
Blog Country: United-States   United-States
Blog Stats
Total Visits: 910
Blog Rating: 2.96
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Mother's Day Schematic

A graph plots my emotions over a twenty-four-hour period on the second Sunday in May.Line #1, embarrassment at being wished a happy Mother’s Day, rises at the same rate as Line #2, regret at ending up childless. Note that Line #3, grief over the long-ago deaths of my mother and my step-mother, spikes when well-wishers add, “Even if you don’t have kids, everybody’s got a mom.” Earlier posts:ImpossibleResonancePopcornWhere Is Your Attention? [...]...

A graph plots my emotions over a twenty-four-hour period on the second Sunday in May.

Line #1, embarrassment at being wished a happy Mother’s Day, rises at the same rate as Line #2, regret at ending up childless. Note that Line #3, grief over the long-ago deaths of my mother and my step-mother, spikes when well-wishers add, “Even if you don’t have kids, everybody’s got a mom.”



Waiting, Part 2

Finally, the present moment got here. But, damn, why did it drag a migraine with it?At least I’m no longer fretting about a stupid comment I made last month. Or that mess on the coffee table. The niggling doubts about my lipstick color. The ferns we just bought that need to be planted. When your head’s on fire, the flames have your full attention.I’m crawling back into bed now.Since I’m feeling bad anyway, may as well feel bad on behalf of everyone else who’s down...

Finally, the present moment got here. But, damn, why did it drag a migraine with it?

At least I’m no longer fretting about a stupid comment I made last month. Or that mess on the coffee table. The niggling doubts about my lipstick color. The ferns we just bought that need to be planted. When your head’s on fire, the flames have your full attention.

I’m crawling back into bed now.

Since I’m feeling bad anyway, may as well feel bad on behalf of everyone else who’s down with a migraine. It’s a reverse academy award. “I’d like to thank the judges for the honor of this splitting headache, and accept my award on behalf of all fellow sufferers.” I”ll breathe in their throbbing misery, and breathe out a good strong painkiller to relieve it for them. Breathe in their pain. Breathe out their relief. Breathe in their pain. Breathe out their relief.

Why'd the present moment have to drag along a migraine? Why not?



Waiting

I’m waiting for a book formatting company to complete its work on Searching for My Heart. My typewritten pages currently look like a computer screen. After formatting, those pages will look like a book—via the addition of components called “design elements.” These are visual do-dads, which I’d never known existed, but which the publishing industry insists are essential.I’m waiting for an audiobook distributor to report that my audio files have been approved...


I’m waiting for a book formatting company to complete its work on Searching for My Heart. My typewritten pages currently look like a computer screen. After formatting, those pages will look like a book—via the addition of components called “design elements.” These are visual do-dads, which I’d never known existed, but which the publishing industry insists are essential.

I’m waiting for an audiobook distributor to report that my audio files have been approved by the retail outlets.

I’m waiting for publishing-industry jargon (formatter, distributor, retail outlet …) to vacate my brain, to open up space for useful words, like do-dads.

I’m waiting for the timer to ding, signaling twenty-five minutes have passed. Time to take a break.

I'm waiting for patience to show up.

I’m waiting for UPS to deliver my order of do-dads.

I’m waiting for this morning’s dose of aspirin to dull the ache in my neck.

I’m waiting for the caffeine in the aspirin to kick in, so inspiration will follow, and my fingers will skip across the keyboard, guided by a mystical power that will leave a trail of genius in its wake.

I'm waiting for trust to appear.

I’m waiting for my husband to wake up, so I can practice my voice exercises instead of hoping my fingers will get to work on the keyboard. I’d rather be belting out “nay nay nay nay nay nay nay.” To be honest, the noise won’t disturb hubby. I’m the one whose sleep is interrupted every time the refrigerator hums on. To be honest, I’m waiting for him to wake up because I’m bored, and it’s his job to entertain me. To be honest, he woke up an hour ago.

I’m waiting for honesty to kick in.

I’m waiting for the snake plant in the corner to either perk up or die.

I’m waiting for the gas gauge to sink toward “E.” This week I’ve been plagued by an abnormal calmness, associated with a full gas tank. It’s unsettling. Normal is better than calm. Normal: The needle indicates empty. Normal: The angel on one shoulder says, “You deserve an easy life, which includes not running out of gas. Didn’t you pay attention in the Abundance Workshop?” Normal: The devil on the other shoulder says, “Do not charge another thirty dollars to your credit card. Didn’t you pay attention in the Misers Workshop?”

I’m waiting for a package of ground turkey to thaw. Otherwise there won’t be tacos for dinner.

I'm waiting for tonight, after dinner, when hubby and I will watch a movie.

I’m waiting for tomorrow, which means coffee with Jessica and Annie.

I’m waiting for the present moment to get here. They say it's a great place to live.



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