He Needed Killin’
Quote du Jour:
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.
—Allâ€™s Well That Ends Well, Act iv, Scene 3, William Shakespeare
You know, I truly think he needed killinâ€™ could be a valid defense. I discovered a deep dark secret last night and it has to do with my husband.
It seems heâ€™s been pulling a bit of trickery on me for the last couple of years. And hereâ€™s how I discovered his mischievous ways. I poured myself a glass of Arizonaâ€™s Green Tea with Honey and Ginseng last night (YUM) and sipped on it as I browsed the latest JCPenney jewelry catalogue. Because Iâ€™m drawn to the computer like a June bug is to a porch light (and I have the attention span of one), I remembered something I needed to do and dashed upstairs.
But I downed the rest of my drink before heading off. Came back down only to find there was a small amount in the glass. I immediately accused Husband of filling up my glass, trying to mess with my head. I KNEW I had emptied the glass before I headed off. He gave me the innocent act and asked if he would do such a thing. Of course he would.
I brushed it off and went back to browsing my catalogue, drooling over the fire topaz earrings. Then it occurred to me I forgot to send an email to a friend and I once again downed my drink. This time making sure to note that I had in fact drank it all. I return only to find it filled up again! But only about an inch. This time he was caught and I pointed my finger at him and shouted a very emphatic, â€œYOU!â€
Yes, folks, Iâ€™d been had. It seems heâ€™s been doing this sort of things for YEARS. And Iâ€™m just now catching on. The fâ€™er.
We moved on to dinner where my son announced that he wanted to go to Arizona and Rapid City. Um. Okay. Where do kids get this stuff?
And now back to writingâ€¦
At last! The dam has broken. For the last few days (weeks?) Iâ€™ve been lamenting the fact that I couldnâ€™t write anything. Yesterday for the first time in like two weeks, TADA. I started a new short story. I plan to send it to The Scruffy Dog Review. Itâ€™s called â€œUndertowâ€. I am so so so excited about it! Whew. And here I thought I would never have another idea again. Ever.
I think thatâ€™s my biggest fear with this writing gig. Not being able to. Having no more ideas. And then not being able to write. I love writing. I love creating. I love making worlds and people come alive.
Perhaps next I can start working on Nice Girls Do again. My good friend, Sandy J, and I have devised a plan. We set a goal for ourselves each week. If we reach that goal, we get a special treat. (A willing Gerard? I wish!) I think this is the motivation I need. Iâ€™ve been writing on deadline for a year with the serials and now that itâ€™s all gone, I guess Iâ€™ve gotten to free. Freedom will do that do ya. Freedom of no deadlines. I need the pressure of the deadline, to make myself produce even if it is crap. At least you can edit crap. You can edit nothing. So, there you go.
In other news, Monday found me in happier spirits. Much to the relief of my husband. It was the chocolate cake that made me happy. I so needed that. And all day at the office, all I could think about was the other Warm Delights in my pantry. It was calling my name. After lunch, I needed something sweet. So I ended up at the vending machine curbing my craving with a bag of plain M&Ms.
I had that chocolate chip cookie with fudge Warm Delights after dinner. I didnâ€™t share a bite of that either.
Tag. You’re It
Carter tagged me with the happy blog thingy, so here goes. I THINK Iâ€™ve blogged about being happy (havenâ€™t I?) so I spent a good portion of the evening searching for the Ever Happy Post. 😆
Okay, so maybe those donâ€™t count. So Iâ€™m digging deep and finding something that makes me feel joy, warmth, happiness, and all that other stuff. I can think of one thing and one thing only and thatâ€™s my son. When he looks up at me with that goofy grin, his little eyes squinting, it makes my heart melt into a big pile of goo. He is the only one thing in this world that brings me total and complete joy.
Now Iâ€™m tagging five others with the joy-bug (in no particular order):
1. Sandy J
9. Anyone else willing to take on the challenge.
I know thatâ€™s more than five, and Iâ€™m sure Iâ€™ve left someone out. Comment on this post if you decide to take on the challenge.
Want to play? Hereâ€™s the rules.
THE SEARCH FOR JOY
Search your blog for the word â€œjoyâ€ used in the context of â€œhappiness.â€ If you cannot find the word in your weblog, you may use any of the select list of synonyms below.
joy â€” amusement, bliss, cheer, comfort, delectation, delight, ecstasy, elation, exaltation, exultation, exulting, felicity, gaiety, gladness, glee, good humor, gratification, happiness, hilarity, humor, jubilance, liveliness, merriment, mirth, pleasure, rapture, regalement, rejoicing, revelry, satisfaction, wonder
If your weblog does not include a built-in search engine, then you can use Google to search it only for the word you wish to find.
If youâ€™ve found the word and it was not used facetiously or sarcastically, good for you. All you need to do is link to your earlier entry, and write a few words about that joyous moment. If, however, you have no joy (whole words only) in your weblog, you must dig deep in your soul and find something wonderful in your life right now. One little thing that fills you with warmth, that bubbles you over with quiet happiness, or tickles you with its good-hearted hilarity, or makes you glad you just took a breath, and are getting ready to take another. It doesnâ€™t have to be anything big. A smile someone gave you; your cat on your shoulder; the way the light angles through your window and casts rainbows on your floor. All it has to be is something genuine, something real, something that matters to you.
Because we all need joy in our lives, and need to take the time â€” from time to time â€” to recognize it. And sometimes, we need to pass it on.
Even if weâ€™re a big pain in the ass when we do.
When youâ€™ve dealt with your own joy, pass the quest on to five other bloggers.