November 18, 2017

What’s in your refrigerator right now?

Today’s prompt asks me to look in the fridge, and I thought I’d go with it since the only thing I typed today was a grocery list. I don’t usually type my grocery lists, but I was on my computer anyway looking up recipes and started a Word doc because I was too lazy to get up and go get a piece of paper. I ended up liking the Word doc because when my list was complete, I cut/paste everything into the order that I walk through my grocery store, which made a huge difference when I was actually there. I just went down the list, and I didn’t have to stop and scan the entire thing over and over to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. This is revolutionary, because I am a huge dork who gets really excited about efficiency. I’m pretty sure I will never, ever hand write a grocery list again.

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November 15, 2017

Adventures in Caffeine (Subtitle: Coffee: the Devil’s Drink)

Many of you who know me personally know that I have been decaf for years. Decades, even. I, unlike the vast majority of the population, do not need caffeine to be annoyingly perky in the morning. I’m just naturally someone whose peppy personality pisses off my colleagues who are more dependent upon their daily cup of joe to wake up and get going. Now that I’m older and my trusty Stomach of Steel that could consume anything my college self stuffed into it with nary a grumble has turned into a dyspeptic, grouchy old hag who is never pleased about anything, I can’t even enjoy a can of soda without there being…uh…repercussions. So, I ingest no caffeine on a regular basis. This hasn’t disrupted anything except that sometimes I just want an ice-cold Dr. Pepper, damn it. It’s not even for the caffeine. It’s because Dr. Pepper is the most delicious drink on the planet.

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November 9, 2017

The Learning Edge

I worked on editing an interview, one single solitary interview, all. damn. day. And then I went to a community conversation about racism tonight, so today’s post ain’t gonna be funny.

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November 7, 2017

Owl Surgery

Zoe called me in to tuck her into bed last night, and when I walked in I found her frozen and staring down at the sheets. Normally this means she’s discovered a spider or some other bug, or she’s just barfed, or something equally disgusting has just taken place. I steeled myself and asked, “What’s going on?”

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November 6, 2017

Bad Habit

In an attempt to help myself find things to write about, because some days suck when it comes to generation of original ideas, I bought a little book at Target entitled 300 Writing Prompts. This was an impulse purchase, like 99% of what Target sells to consumers (damn you Target!) but I think it’ll be good, especially for this month when I’ve committed to posting something – anything – on the blog every day.

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October 11, 2017

Sick Day

I’ve come to the conclusion at the ripe old age of 44 that being sick can cause you to have irrational thoughts. The term “head cold” takes on new meaning when you realize that it’s not just a runny nose, sore throat, and popping ears…it’s a whole new adventure through the Land of Questionable Decisions.

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July 28, 2017

On grocery carts

I arrived at the grocery store the other day ready to run to pick up a few items needed to make dinner for a friend. I knew it would be a quick trip as I had a very set list and was purchasing nothing for us; we were heading out of town and I had been engaged in a desperate attempt to consume everything perishable before leaving. I knew my foray into the market would last twenty minutes, tops, and would be quick and painless. This was reinforced by there being only two or three other cars in the lot; the store would be virtually empty and I’d be able to sail through.

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July 24, 2017

Mitey Fine

It’s a long story about how I found myself in Home Depot at 9:30 on a Saturday night looking for air filters, but that’s not important. What’s important is what I learned while I was there.

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July 2, 2017

Finding myself. Again.

It’s been months since I’ve written. Amended: it’s been months since I’ve written anything beyond an obituary, and that particular piece needed the courage that a bottle of wine provides. There have been a variety of reasons: I’m too busy and there’s crap at work and my mother is dying and the house is dirty, blah blah blah. I should have been writing through all of it and instead I’ve written through none of it. I’ve written plenty in my head, sure, but nothing made it to the fingers and onto the page. I have a novel ready for heavy editing. A flash non-fiction piece ready to send out for hopeful publication. A creative non-fiction book in the early stages of interviews and transcribing. A million short stories and essays backlogged in my brain, all fighting for air.

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