Thursday, October 04, 2012

Quick work/child rant

This is a problem with the traditional, 8 to 5, office job: you are stuck here from 8 to five. You are stuck sitting at your desk trying, eventually pretending, to work even if your brain is all melty at 3:30 and all you want to do is leave and go get your daughter at school and beat her to death with the biology book that she forgot to bring to school. Or throw her onto a pyre of the science and math homework that she has not been turning in that is leading to her flunking out of the exclusive math & science academy that you had to fucking coerce her into attending.

And, really, if she wants to get booted from the program, then okay, we'll go a different way with high school. But who is going to have to negotiate getting her through the rest of the semester? And who is going to get to tell her overbearing father? You or Miss La-La-I-forgot-I-had-homework-or-I-didn't-want-to-do-it-but-don't-be-mad? Three guesses and the first two don't count.

(Okay. I've written. I might feel better now.)

~N.

Wednesday, July 04, 2012

I did some stuff

Here's what you need to know about today. I wrote 600+ coherent words. I studied Italian for 45 minutes. I let my daughter have a friend over and they baked cupcakes, with no interference from me. I did laundry. I provided lunch and dinner, with assistance from Papa John's. I did cross stitch and read a book. So, I have to get over the feeling that I did nothing today and acknowledge that I did quite a bit, just not out in the heat and with my fellow Americans. Okay, that is all. Happy Independence Day to us all and Happy belated Canada Day to the way-Northerners.

~N.

Sunday, July 01, 2012

New Blog

I've got a new blog that I'd like to try. It's called "I've got stuff if you want it" @

http://ivegotstuffifyouwantit.blogspot.com.

Maybe you don't want stuff, but you know some who does. Maybe you have stuff to get rid of, too.

Just got take a look at tell me what you think. Thanks.

~N.

Monday, April 09, 2012

Writing woes and whines

(This is my entry for today for a project that Colette and I are doing where we are supposed to write every other day back and forth. Clearly, I am not keeping up my side of the deal. And it was MY IDEA.)

You know why I don’t write? Me, neither. Dog as my witness, between when I last wrote here two weeks ago and the “what the fuck happened?” email a week later, I forgot. Truly. I forgot that I agreed to share the task of writing every other day. Okay, I may have remembered while being somewhere inaccessible to the computer, but then promptly forget again.

So, I have to ask, what kind of writer am I? What kind of writer sits down at the computer two to ten times a day and can’t remember that she has a sworn duty to sit down and crank out 500 words? Because what’s even worse is that since the wtf email, I’ve written a reminder to myself in my online to-do list every day since and every day I’ve crossed it off undone.

What I want to go do now is reread The Courage to Write to see if I can get some insight into why I am procrastinating. Or maybe The Procrastinator’s Handbook (it’s a real book; it’s on the top shelf in the bedroom bookcase). However, I am not going to go get either one right now because that is just another way to get away from the task. Reading about writing is NOT writing. That’s not my quote. I think I may have gotten it from Ray Bradbury, or the very old woman who wrote Becoming a Writer. Either way, I’M NOT GOING TO LOOK IT UP RIGHT NOW.

This is killing me. I like to write. I want to write. Why can I not break into my day and do this? Why is it not part of my routine? I look at email every morning and several (read: many, many) times a day. I look at Facebook almost as often, even though many of the posts drive me crazy. I balance the checkbook every morning via the bank website and Quicken. I shower. I usually make the bed. I have breakfast. I usually take my various pills. Starting next week I’ll be doing all the machinations necessary to get myself and Things One and Two out the door for work and school. Why is writing not in the long list of things I’m doing every day?

It’s not like I don’t have anything to say. Before I even get to the great American novel I have several thousand words worth of rants to pass on to my reading public.

“I was drunk in a bar. I was thrown out into public.”

Thank you, Ron White.

See, I’ve got a bunch of funny stuff just waiting to emerge. Then I’ll have some insightful stuff. Then maybe I’ll have some highly readable and marketable stuff. Or maybe it will all be crap. Who cares? Must write every day. Must write every day. Must plan to write and make it part of my routine every day. Must do this so that when I’m older and grayer this will not be one of those regrets.

Note. To. Self.

~Noelle 04/09/2012