Archive for October 29, 2006

If It’s Sunday, I Must Be Brain Damaged

Pap and I worked hard for our calm, adult life. We planned for it. Had all our kids in our 20’s so they’d be gone in our 40’s. We assumed our progeny would do the same, which would leave us ten years to do our own thing before grandkids started showing up on the scene. In Pap’s case that meant running around naked a lot. In mine, it involved tidy dinner parties with six witty guests, weekend trips to tropical places and endless hours of free writing time. Oh well.

Operation cleaning was almost a success. We did bring order to the den, library, craft room and the grandgirl’s bedroom with a minimum of tears and broken knick-knacks. Just as Jazzmin threw down her dust rag and declared “I’m sick of cleaning, I’m ready to make a mess!” Briauna distracted me with the lure of a rousing game of Risk and the three year old had a total meltdown. Juliette can scream like Jamie Lee Curtis in any of her slash and gash movies, scared my poor dog to death. I gave up, we carved pumpkins. Then watched Monster House.

Tonight is play practice, where I will once again attempt to croak my way through Christmas songs. One more week of this and they cast the skits.
In which I will have a part, or they will have a scathing review in my paper. I don’t mean that.

Most of the freelance jobs I apply for ask for a resume and a writing sample. Every now and then, they look at these things and then follow up asking for a link to my blog and/or website. Since I never land one of these jobs, I have come to the conclusion that my best writing must be here, and the look inside my head is way too scary and unorganized for an employer.

Note to self: It’s going to be one of those ADD kinds of days, probably best to start the day with something less twisted than Pink Floyd… ooh, look at that duck….

October 29, 2006 at 8:09 am 13 comments


The free-lance writer is the person who is paid per piece or per word or perhaps. (Robert Benchley)

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Shortly after I learned to use a spoon, I learned to use a pencil. Crippled by shyness as a child, I found that the things I couldn't say out loud, I could say with a pen, and then a typewriter. The shyness was overcome with education and age...but the need to write has never left me.

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