There’s so many things I want to tell you.
Like, why I haven’t done this PROMPTuesday. (Answer: Because it’s too hard.) Or, why I’m sipping wine in the dark (Answer: because the kids can’t find me.).
There’ s just many things I want to write. Things about labels and rituals and why both are necessary. Or not. Then there’s authenticity and why I think I’m being real, but only on my terms, and that’s just not right.
Also, I never continued my story about Coretta. And I need to, I know. Because it needs to be told. Man, I’ve got stories. Stories that can’t stay quiet. Tales that need a voice, a teller, a muse. Stories. I gotta write! Gotta write!
Plus, you need to hear about my stalker. I think I’m even going to post a picture of him. Just to make up for all the grief he caused me. Sure, it was 10 years ago now, but I still can’t stop looking under my bed at night.
Whoa, heavy! Where’d that come from? Anyone need a therapist? Geez oh man.
in addition, I want to tell you that it was really funny when my oldest, Toots, ran to the bathroom and shut the door and my youngest followed after her, yelling, “open door, open door!” and Toots cracked the door open and answered, “Stop it Booger! I need public.”
See, I’ve got stuff to tell you all about. Things I think about first thing in the morning when I’m allowed the briefest of internal thoughts and I feel prolific and loose and creative, but then BAM! the morning unfolds and next thing you know I’m cradling a bottle of wine, and editing a report on Sri Lanka. Or not.
And you should see Toots now, she’s laying her head against an ottoman, watching “Annie” with stars in her eyes. She loves the musicals. Remember how those movies made you feel when you were a kid? Like the world was wonderful and full of promise and you were going to take it by the horns? Or reins? (What would be the more appropriate metaphor?) (I guess it depends on whether the world were a bull or a horse, right?)
Finally, did I tell you that I’m fully committed to finishing my book? I WILL DO IT. By end of summer. Well…at least the first draft. And then I will sell it and get that loft and pool and more bottles of wine and voice lessons for Toots. Plus, more public. Maybe get her her own room or something.
I tell you what. This is what I’m going to do: wake up really early tomorrow, and write about these things before they flit away and all I can do is hint at them because I’m too tired for a proper rendering. What do you say to that?
Hello? Hellooooo? Hellllooooooo?