Choose wisely

Ready for a New House and a New Look

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I love looking at designer homes.  Pictures of perfect rooms to wake up in and to snuggle in with big blankets and good books.  

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I don't think I would ever crawl out of this as a kid...or now. 

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Can you imagine this in your house?  I love the twisting stair case and the giant reading tables. 

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With a backyard retreat like this no one would ever go inside.  

Then again if you made the inside like...this maybe.

Okay back to real life.  Back to book writing.

There is rumor of rain

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The meteorologist have been giddy school girls.  There is a hurricane/tropical storm coming for the Gulf Coast the rumor is there might be rain.  At this point I am not sure what that stuff is.  There may be dancing in the streets...well assuming I am not driving students.  Then it will be high blood pressure and sadness.  I hope I am home to enjoy it.  The white trash neighbors do put on a good show for occasions like that...it somehow always turns into a drunken festival of cussing topped off with a fight.  Gotta love the hills. No fear I will have the camera handy.  The drunk do like their photo taken.  

I hope it rains.  I am getting tired of looking at....

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The desert is cool.  But I don't like it in the front yard.  I am way too white to have this kind of heat.  I step near sun and you can hear the hissing of burning flesh.  Maybe we could do a weekend trip to the coast and welcome the storm to town.  Sip a Margarita, while sitting in my lawn chair and see what blows in.  Can't be any more terrifying then driving a 15 year old first timer in rain slick streets.  

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Maybe I am a bit grouchy, today was an 8 hour day.  I have worked many jobs but sitting in that car for 8 hours I will have to stretch tonight to keep the whip lash at bay.  It is worth it.  It is all apart of the plan.  Work 20+ hours a week in job two and pay off the big creditors I owe in two years.  It will suck in every kind of way but after two years...the sky will open the angels will sing, unicorns and rainbows will own the sky and the clouds will be made of cotton candy.  

Okay...maybe not.  

But I will be able to move out of the white trashville.  I will miss the drug bust, the random drive byes, the swat teams stationed outside the house and my new favorite friend (the bipolar schizophrenic neighbor across the street who likes to send random threatening text messages at night.)  But I think they will carry on without me.  

Bring on the rain. Everything looks better after a good storm. 

Grab it by the collar...show it who is boss

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This summer I have been battling back and forth on several things in my life.

Some parts of my life I am uber focused on achieving certain goals.  To the point of having sever depression if I don't reach them. Then there are other parts of my life that I wish there was someone was there to take care of me.  I know totally grown up response.  I love writing, teaching and cooking.  I like making money but awful at budgeting, saving, vacuuming, and dusting.

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It all in some ways scares me. Well the money part does...the last two kill my allergies.  And they don't scare me more like overwhelm me.  I have an irrational fear that time is running out.  And when the clock tolls debtor prison will be brought back and at some point everyone will find out and stone me for my pile of bad choices.  Damn college!  It is a real fear.  I don't check the mail.  Nothing good comes in the mail box.  For the last few months I was trying a denial as a coping method.  It doesn't work.  

Today I made a good step forward.  I faced my fear and called people I have been avoiding.  I was shocked how nice they were.  I was also surprised at how much it made my stomach hurt.  I have made a plan and in ten short years everything will be fantastic.  So now I can't wait to turn 46 and a half. Now I have to find a maid that works for practically nothing and if she was good at editing that would be even better.

What fear have you faced recently?     

Jealous wind

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I found the shade today. 

The sun fought to roast me.

Thin spindled limbs weaved together overhead. 

Below the path cleaved through the knots.

Dirt and rock it led me. 

Down a dark hill, the woven knit retreated.

The wind didn't bother to come.

She was angry.  

Jealous of the naked limbs.

A giant oak blocked

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my way out. 

Perched in the mass of knots I saw myself. 

Or was it me on the path. 

The look was the same.

My feet hurt

head pounded

and my back drenched with chilled sweat.

Looking down the knobby lot I got the sign. 

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I do love to jump in a blog hop.  This post was written for two...Poetry Potluck a great gathering of like minded folks that share weekly, and Write on Wednesday.

Fresh Breath

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Yesterday after writing my pitiful post I decided not to take the hormones.  It was the best day ever!  I cleaned.  I cooked.  I napped relentlessly.  I teased and joked with family.  I felt amazing.  I decided last night prescription be damned I'm only taking these puppies every other day.  It will keep me a sane productive member of society.  

I was reading the most amazing blog site yesterday, The Other Side of the Story, and I figured out what the problem was with my book.  It is a premise story not a plot novel. It can be fixed.  It will be fixed.  But it is okay if I step away...for a little bit.  It was after all my happy day.  So I started brainstorming, plotting and planning the next book.  Worked on it for 3 hours.  Not a ton of time.  I read yesterday that J.K. Rowlings planned for 5 years before she started any of the Harry Potter books.  That is a freakishly long time. Or is it?  It did work. She said when she started to write it was a matter of putting all of the notes and bits together.  Would love for my first draft to be that simple. 

Time to jump back in.

The Tightrope Race

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Okay so I've read over the past few post.  I might be in a bit of a slump.   Unfortunately, dear reader, this blog is a refection of me.  I have been on those blasted hormones...over the last few days the dose has been increased.  God help us all.

My sweet, adorable disposition is under attack.  I can't count the number of times I have said, "I don't care.  Whatever."  And truly meant it this week.  I can feel myself slipping into a depression.  I am perched on the tight rope's edge the abyss beneath me has it's own gravitational pull.  Only three more weeks of this to go.

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Instead of sitting  mopey about the rewrite that I know I must make.  I started yesterday.  The restructuring has begun.  It felt heavy.  It was like I was moving a warehouse full of boxes to the other side of the street.  They are all awkward to carry, and I bumble around to get any kind of grip.  Basically it sucks...see a glimpse of the sunshine that has been me lately.  I will try to suck it up.  I've got more of those crappy boxes to carry across the damn street.