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Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Shifting Gears


Have you ever been driving down the road with a friend calling out directions in the passenger seat?  As you’re driving through an intersection your friend yells, “Turn right!” 



My in laws are known for this occurrence, which is usually followed by a scream of profanity from the driver.  Breaks are screeching.  Tires are squalling.  Everyone in the car flies forward a few inches…it isn’t fun.  But, the car ends up on the correct street.  Then, comes the uncomfortable moment when apologies are made and everyone checks for bruises as the car gains some speed.  This is the point I want to talk about today.

I recently had to slam on the breaks in my writing journey and turn onto a new street.  I abandoned my work in progress in favor of a different project.  This “Street” is going to lead to my destination. That other road?  Not so much.  This is a lovely tree lined lane and I’m happy to be traveling on it, but I’m still rubbing the bruises caused by the sudden stop. 

My car is gaining momentum on this new path; however I’ve found I’m shoe shopping online more than I used to—we all cope in different ways I guess.  *winks* I think it’s the frustration over my current pace that has me turning to retail therapy.  When you go from speeding around corners to a Sunday drive in life, it’s a little depressing.  But, I’m pressing forward, which—I think—is all I can do.  I must admit though, I want to feel the wind in my hair again.  I want to see words fly by on the page.  I want to get into the meat and potatoes of this new story…

When life deals you a sudden stop how do you deal with it?  What do you do to gain speed again?

I’ve heard of authors having entire manuscripts complete by the time their proposals are rejected, but they never say how they got through it.  I have friends who have found their work environments changed in the blink of an eye and somehow they muddle through the change.  I know a few writers who scrap manuscripts and jump into another without any difficulty at all—I really wonder how they manage.  Life hands out a lot of sudden changes if you think about it.  So, what do we do?  Walk away for a minute to clear the mind? Jam on the gas pedal and scream “Go, go, go” to the steering wheel?  Shoe shop online?  I think I’m going to keep driving and see where this road takes me and perhaps do a little shoe shopping along the way.

Have you ever had to slam on the brakes and turn?  I would love to hear your story.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

One Of Those Mornings


This morning was one of those mornings.

I knew things were going to be rough when I woke up late and every muscle in my upper legs felt like I’d done a hundred squats and lunges the day before – because I had.  Things went permanently askew when I later attempted to line my eyes with lip liner and spray my hair with Avon Skin So Soft instead of curl booster.  I shook it off and trudged on, but herein lies the tale of one woman’s tornado of a Tuesday morning:

Phone alarm goes off at 6am, but I hit the snooze five times because I was exhausted from a workout and staying up late writing and “networking” (Tweeting, Facebooking, Pinteresting – yes those are totally verbs thank you very much).  For those doing the math at home, that’s 6:45-ish and I have to be out of the door by 8am at the very latest.

Woke lil’ man up late as well and he was in a mood. Realized we were out of Pediasure, flavored his milk with French Vanilla creamer and kept it moving.  Finally got myself showered and dressed, then dressed him, only to hear three dreaded words for a mom with a toddler in diapers. “Poo Poo, Mommy.”  We take care of Mother Nature and even though we’re about five minutes off schedule, we’re okay.

I finish the hair and make-up, then rush to prepare my morning health shake because I’m dedicated to this plan of changing the way I eat and therefore my life.  In the blender I toss some frozen strawberries, almond milk, and a dollop or two of Greek yogurt.  Blend.  Add the spinach. Blend again.  What’s this? Yes, it’s hideous looking, but more importantly, the frozen strawberries are stuck in the blades and refuse to blend.  Of course the only thing I can do is dig them out with a big spoon.  Somehow, with some third hand I don’t know about, I hit the BLEND button while said spoon is still in blender.

BOOM!

Spinach and strawberry health shake go everywhere!  Every. Where.

The counter, the cabinets, the floor, my shirt, my hair, and my eyes (which I’d finally managed to line with the proper pencil).  It looks like someone blended a frog in my kitchen and I really like frogs so I’m doubly upset.  I say a bad word.  Then I have to apologize to lil’ man for the bad word.  Now, running ten minutes late, I clean up the kitchen, towel the smoothie out of my hair, wipe my eyes and reapply eye liner, change shirts and load everything in the car.  I get in and realize I don’t have lil’ man or what’s left of my smoothie.  I get back out, say another dirty word in private because I’m over twenty minutes late now, and collect them both. Get back in the car, close the door with a lot more enthusiasm than necessary, and remind lil’ man never to slam doors like Mommy just did.

I finally get him dropped off and I’m on my way to work when I see blue lights.  My stomach falls out onto the highway as I look at my speed.  I’m only seven MPH over. Surely not.  The blue lights close in and I want to cry.  Then the HP flies past me and gets the orange Jeep hauling it in front of me.  I’ve never been a bigger fan of bright orange Jeeps than at that moment.

I stop at the next red light and cry.  Not because of the near ticket or the frog smoothie or the sore legs, but because I’m stressed.  I’ve been stressed for weeks about things that have nothing to do with the morning and I won’t admit it.  Like most women, I have too much on my plate and not enough forks and knives to manage it.  There are days when all it takes is the great smoothie explosion or a near speeding ticket to finally make us stop and have a good cry.  It felt so good too because I needed it.

As I’m ruining my hard earned eyeliner between one light and the next, Theory of a Deadman’s “I Hate My Life” comes on the radio and I start to laugh.  The song is funny because of the lyrics and because I don’t hate my life.  Yes, it’s insane and there are days I want to take a break from it and teleport to my imaginary private island with Tom Hardy as cabana boy for 48 hours … but I love my life.  I adore my lil’ man and wacky family.  I love finally working out again and feeling it the next day, eating right even when it isn’t easy.  I love staying up late “networking” and writing and I enjoy putting on eye makeup, even thrice in one day.  I love my life and I wouldn’t change much about it, but I either need a clone or I need to learn two words.  “No” and “Help!”  So, from this day forward, along with my working out and ugly smoothies, I will use those two words as necessary.

Oh and the smoothie was really good.  I would’ve drank more if it wasn’t on my ceiling.


"Mine didn't look anywhere near this pretty."