Insomnia brings out the crazy

I have a sleep window, the time when I’m so tired I need to either nap in the afternoon… or go to bed for the night. (Depending on what time of the day my sleepiness presents itself).  When the need for sleep hits me, there’s a short period where I either use it or lose it.  If I wait too long I lose my sleep mojo.

This happened to me countless times on weekend afternoons when I pulled a late nighter (that’s a lie…I had one wine too many) and I’d peter out in the early afternoon.  Knowing I have a ton of errands to run, I’ll fight through my exhaustion (wine haze) because I know if I take a nap, I’ll have no desire to go out when I wake up. So, my husband and I  dash around town, doing the Costco, Home Depot, Target, Shoprite runs—or as we affectionately call it- A Hot Date.

Yup, life in the Land of Netzel is nothing but thrilling.

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Once our errands are completed and we’re home, I groggily traipse upstairs to our bedroom to indulge in my well deserved (and very much needed) nap. Snuggling in my warm and cozy bed, I close my eyes and drift off to a peaceful sleep.  Three minutes later, my eyes are wide open.   I lost my window…my sleep mojo is gone.  Poof! Disappeared.  I’m still tired (exhausted, wine-hazy and now cranky as hell) …but the moment is lost.

This phenomenon does not apply to naps only; it also applies to my nighttime sleep.  You know, the eight hours we’re supposed to get each and every night to start our day bright eyed, bushy tailed and all that jazz.

This brings me to last night.  At around ten o’clock my head was in the throws of some serious bobbing, as I dozed off on the couch.  Several times, Mr. Netzel nudged me, telling me I should go upstairs to bed.  I refused.  It was Sunday and I didn’t want the weekend to end. I forced myself to stay awake, although I was crappy company, constantly yawning and dozing off again.

By 11:30 I finally gave in.

By 11:45 Mr. Netzel was comatose and I was wide awake.  I missed my window.

It’s funny the things that go through your mind when you can’t sleep.  The number one thing that goes through your mind…Why can’t I sleep?

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Aggravating as hell.

 

After the initial berating myself for not going to bed an hour and a half earlier, I start to overthink.  Overthinking when you’re frustrated, exhausted, and something I like to refer to as “sleepy-stupid” is a bad combination.  All sorts of random thoughts pop into your head. There’s no rhyme or reason…. over-tired brain babble.

Here’s one of my thoughts…this one went on for a while.

Knowing that filming for the Fifty Shades of Grey movie just wrapped, it was on my mind.  I know why, it’s pretty much every other topic on my facebook newsfeed.

This got me thinking about actors and movie sex.  Now, I realized they simulate sex, but still.  There’s nakedness, lots if they do it right.  Then my brain takes it to the next level.  How would I feel if my husband was an actor and part his work was to get naked and simulate sex with a pretty, young, flexible actress he just met?  Could I be cool about it and convince myself that it’s part of his job? Would I be secure enough in our relationship to allow it? Could I look him in the eye when he came home after a long day at “work”?  Or would I give him the side eye?

It didn’t take long to know my answer… although the paycheck is nice and the possibility that his career could flourish is incentive… I’d be totally selfish and put the kibosh on it. I’m not that cool.  I’m not that secure.

Even if they had him wearing one of those cock socks.  You know, the garment actors wear over their manhood to protect their modesty. Not a freaking chance in hell.  There’s still uglies bumping…and that particular ugly belongs to me.

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On filming days for sex scenes, my husband’s hands will be cupping the perfect young and perky tits of a woman who is most definitely not his wife. The very girl he just met a few weeks prior. His tongue gliding down her stomach, trailing featherlike kisses back up to her neck.  (Excuse me for a moment…I need to find a photo of my husband and burn it).  Her perfectly manicured nails will be raking down his back, while she lay naked under him, her legs wrapped around his waist.

All the while I’m home, watching reruns of The Nanny, sticking pins in the groin of the Voodoo doll I named affectionately after my husband, while yelling at it “Simulate this- You Bastard!”  (Don’t worry, she gets one too.)

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Next, I imagined going to the wrap party with my husband, a festive get together of cast and crew after three months of filming.  Everyone is smiling and laughing.  Drinks are flowing.  The lead actress comes up to me to exchange niceties. She may be the sweetest person in the world, but to me she’s the bitch who got naked with my man. I try to act cool, but inside I want to scratch her eyes out.  I know my husband probably had his mouth wrapped around her nipples three days earlier, while he pounded his sock into her ugly.  I’d wonder if he had a sock slip…or if anything else slipped.  Too much wondering.

Like I said, I’m not cool.

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I had to get my mind off of that scenario because it was making me angry at my husband who was doing nothing but peacefully sleep beside me, oblivious to my irrational fury and jealousy over something that never happened.

I start thinking about the book I’m writing.  Sometimes I hear the conversations between the characters in my head.  It’s like I’m eavesdropping on a private discussion.  I hear the words go back and forth …over and over.  This time a phrase was used and I wanted to remember it.  But it’s three am and pitch black in my bedroom.  On my nightstand is a pad and pen I keep for these moments of clarity.  I didn’t want to wake my husband, but I knew I’d lose the words if I didn’t write it down.  So in the darkness, I scribble something.

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Two words scribbled in handwriting I don’t recognize.   Fortunately for me, I remembered what I was referring to and added it in the chapter (I’m guessing it’ll be in chapter 16 when all is said and done).

By now it’s close to four a.m.  I’m still awake  and the hubs is snoring.

In a desperate attempt to bore myself to sleep, I grab my cell phone and connect to the internet.  After about an hour.  I’m bored enough to call it a night. I close my eyes and finally drift off.

 Buzz, Buzz, Buzz…. Stupid alarm clock. Six a.m came around fast. Time to get up and start the day.

So here’s my lesson learned.  Don’t ignore the sleep window. It messes with your head.

~o0o~

Some quick notes: I’ve received a few questions regarding my Different Way story.   I’d like to thank everyone who took the time to read it and inquire about it. I have not abandoned the story and will continue it.  I’m back in my writing groove, so hopefully soon.  Thank you again for your patience.

I’ve been thinking about moving my fanfics over to this blog.  I haven’t decided yet.  This way, everything is in one place…and it’ll give me the opportunity to rewrite some of the chapters I’ve always wanted to retackle.   I’ll get back to you on that.

About my book.    I’m very close to the end of it before it goes into the first round of real editing.  Please let me know if you’d like to see some snippets here and I’ll see what I can do.

And lastly, I’d like to thank all of you who take some time out of your day to read this blog.  It’s been fun to write.  Please be sure to subscribe to it and follow me if you like what you see.

That’s all for today.  Make it a good one.

You’ve got to be kidding me… It’s going to snow again?

I’m managing my facebook exile pretty well. I’ve written four additional chapters for my original story in that time, the first draft anyway. I usually take a few days after to think about what I wrote (and go through some inner conflict tug of war over whether I like it or hate it.  At some point during my turmoil, the answer is both.  I’ll fix what didn’t work and move on.)

 As you have probably worked out, my process is not that complicated.  The truth is- I’m not that deep.  And I like it that way.

While I work out the kinks in the original, I figure it’s time to get working on a much delayed update or two in FSOG fanfiction world.  That’s what’s on today’s menu anyway. 

 My Social Media Dom has allowed me a few minutes here and there to peek into facebook.  I hope he doesn’t get too used to his Dom status because those days are numbered. Soon I’ll be back to my well-deserved Queen of the Castle status.

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While perusing my newsfeed, I’ve come to the conclusion that I haven’t missed much. In the few times I’ve peeked in, I’ve found that most  status’ are my fellow facebook friends bitching and moaning about snow. Granted, this part of the world has been dealing with a shitload of snow.  I’m not a fan of snow. Truthfully, I hate snow (yet, I enjoy shoveling snow… it burns away all the wine calories… and there’s a lot to burn).

Correction, I like pretty snow. The kind that sticks onto the trees and grassy surfaces, leaving the streets and sidewalks clear.  That has not occurred this winter.  We are getting pounded.  Three storms just this week.  It’s crazy. Mother Nature is really getting around…Snow Slut that she is.

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When my daughter was in middle school, the eighth grade sponsored a day trip to the Pocono Mountains for some winter sports… skiing, snowboarding, tubing, all the outdoorsy cold winter fun activities I’d rather avoid.  Parents were encouraged to come along and participate.  Like many of us, I was an overprotective parent with visions of my daughter breaking her leg from a freak tubing accident, so I was on board.  Mind you, we were not chaperones; we were there to enjoy the joys of winter along with everyone else.

The kids were having a blast, decked out in eighty layers of coats, hats and scarves.  My daughter and her friend begged me to join them on the mountain. 

Hello darling daughter….  Have you met me?

Fortunately, they were still young enough to believe that anything I told them was gospel.  Like a few other snow-hating mothers, I explained to them that I was staying behind at the ski lodge in case someone was injured and needed help.  I’m so selfless, such a giver.  Satisfied with that excuse, the girls scampered back to the frigid mountain, while I and all the other selfless parents waited patiently in the ski lodge.

Here’s what our kids thought we were doing:

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 Here’s the reality:

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 Needless to say, we made the best of the day (and slept it off on the bus ride home… Good Times).

~o0o~

A few years ago, we were hammered with a bitch of a blizzard. This is a worst case scenario for a snow hater like me.  It’s not pretty snow.  It’s snow that keeps you locked up in your house for days with nothing else to do but eat and deal with bored kids.

I was miserable at the prospect of this snow event.  Mother Nature was setting herself up to be particularity slutty…porn star slutty. I needed a diversion, something to keep my mind off of the storm as it was happening, and lighten my misery.  That’s when I had my moment of clarity.

I read somewhere that it’s practically impossible to look at a penguin and feel angry.  You can’t argue with that logic.  Think of a penguin right now…you’re happy right?   You can’t help yourself, can you?

Meet Paulie the Penguin.  He belongs to our neighbors. We steal it off their porch every Christmas and return it in July. Paulie was about to make this blizzard tolerable.

We placed him on a table outside and let Paulie and Mother Nature entertain us. 

Paulie at 11:00 am: Ready for the fun to begin:

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Paulie at 3:00 pm.   He’s still holding his own:

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5:00 pm…Things are starting to suck for Paulie:

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 7:00 pm.  Paulie is experiencing numbness on his face.  Meanwhile, I’m warm and toasty with a  glass of chilled Pinot Grigio:

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 9:00.  Lucky for Paulie, penguin balls are internal.  Now that it’s dark outside, he’s lit up for our viewing pleasure:

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 11:00 pm.  I think it’s pretty safe to say, Paulie is not a happy Penguin. However I’m on my third glass of wine, it’s all good for me:

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11:00 BONUS PIC. For shits and giggles.  Yes, he’s still in there. Watch him glow.  Isn’t he glorious?  

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 8 am.  My ruler said a gazzilion inches of snow fell that day.  Not a good day to be a plastic penguin. Paulie entombed:

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 9 am.  Paulie carved out of his snowy tomb:

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Later that day…. No Penguins were hurt in this experiment:

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~o0o~

 So, there ya go. My solution to beating the “You’ve got to be kidding me…It’s going to snow again?” blues.

I hope you enjoyed Paulie as much as we do. It’s the only FU I can give to Mother Nature… make the misery she sprinkles upon us… entertaining.

It’s time for me to get writing, so adios until next time.

Stay safe out there.

Time Waster …aka Managing the Easily Distracted Mind

I hadn’t realized until recently that I have the attention span of a flea. Why didn’t I notice it?  I was distracted.

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 As I sit at my desktop, pounding away on the keyboard what I hope will entertain anyone who reads it, I find myself drifting …a quick glance out the window to spy on the neighbors or I look to my other side where I have a hutch full of crystal wineglasses.   I should keep on writing while the mojo is going…but in an insincere moment of imaginary-housewifedom, I decide the better choice is to get off my ass and take out all the crystal and hand wash them.  They’re dusty and don’t have the sparkle they deserve.  Mind you, they haven’t sparkled for months. I don’t use any of these glasses.  I insisted I needed them as an engagement gift, you know, so I could set the table for all the fancy dinners I was planning to have. 

 (To those who aren’t married yet, I’m going to give you a free life lesson: You will never have those parties.  I can count on both hands how many times I’ve used the crystal wine, water and champagne glasses, along with the ‘good china’ I had to have.  You want the cheap stuff, the stuff you don’t care about when your husband’s idiot of a best friend drops it on the floor. Trust me on this one…and you’re welcome.)

 Lately my distraction has been all about facebook.  It took me forever to kick my Farmville addiction (honestly I did have one hell of a fancy farm).  I’d plan my day around what time I had to pick my corn and plant roses. I made sure each farm animal wasn’t crushed in their pens…you know, like they were real breathing farm animals. I owned reindeer…how cool is that? Much unlike my real life, my farm was neat and orderly.   I crossed the sanity line.  I’d have long conversations with my mother (another proud farmer) over our vast farmlands and how beautifully they were decorated.  It was sad, just sad.

Like I said, I finally realized that I had to stop cold turkey.  And it was painful.  I knew my flowers were wilting and my corn was turning brown. I wanted to look.  I wanted to feed my poor hungry chickens. But I stayed strong. I stopped over a year ago and to this day, I can’t visit the ol’ farm…it’s much too painful.

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When I decided to go for it and write a book, I was on a roll.  I was a writing machine.  Words were coming so easily… Clever, clever words.  Oh, I was quite the wordsmith.  That didn’t last too long.  Once again, my attention span got in the way of creativity.  Damn facebook again.  I’d get through a paragraph then reward myself with a quick peek on my newsfeed.  Little by little, the rewards were given for lesser achievements.  A sentence.  A word.  A space.

Facebook, Twitter and various gossip websites were ruling my life and sucking out my inspiration… A complete time waster.

Hello, My name is Annette.

I’m a  procrastinator and Social Mediaholic.

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 I thought long and hard (<—another one of my issues, immature dirty mind) about how I was going to escape my obsession and actually do what I set out to do when I powered up my desktop… Write.

I’ve deactivated my facebook page temporarily before.  The trouble is, you can easily reactivate it by simply typing in your email and password.  I’d accidentally (I swear that’s the truth) log back in all the time and have to deactivate it again (of course after I perused my newsfeed first)

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  I called in for reinforcements.  My husband. I couldn’t believe what I was about to request, but it had to be done. Here’s how it went down.

 “Change my password and don’t tell me what it is.” I signed into my facebook account and handed the tablet to him.

 “Seriously?” He frowns.

 “Yes, I’m weak.”

 “You’re not going to text me all day while I’m at work asking for it, are you?”

 “No. And if I do ask for it, you can’t give it to me.”

 “How will I know when you really need it back?”

 “Oh, I didn’t think of that. I don’t know.  You’ll have to figure it out.”

 “I’m in a no win situation here, you know that.”

 “Yes, now change it.”

 

I turned my head and poof!  New password.  I can no longer access facebook at will. My husband holds the key.  I gave him all the power. He decides when I can go on facebook and I obey. I just made him my social media Dom. Holy crap, I’ve unintentionally entered into a D/s social media relationship. All this Fifty Shades of Grey fanfiction writing has infiltrated my real life.

I’m going to have to ponder this for a while; I think I just blew my mind.

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You’d think having no facebook access would give me some relief, but what I wasn’t expecting was my paranoia to sink in.  What am I missing?  What if they’re talking about me?  They probably are.  They definitely are.  What are they saying?  Is it mean?  Why are they saying mean things about me?  You get the picture.

Come to think of it, if anyone reads this blog entry,  they’ll know I can’t see my facebook page. They’re probably going to litter my facebook page with taunts, knowing I won’t have the ability to respond. There’s no way I can win this.

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 But I am keeping to my word, until I get a respectable amount of writing accomplished.  Today, I was allowed a little facebook time.  I had to look the other way when he entered the password. It was wonderful. Wonderful!

So, now I’m spoon-fed small morsels of facebook.  I’m still working on my gossip site addiction (Cut me some slack, Rome wasn’t build in a day). But I’m heading in the right direction. I’ll pour myself a glass of wine (or two) and wait for the brilliance to pour out into my keyboard.

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New Year’s Resolutions….The Verdict is In….

We’re a little over two weeks into the New Year and I thought I’d revisit my 2014 New Year’s Resolutions. Let’s take a look and see how I’ve faired so far…..

~o0o~

 1- Be more financially responsible.

That Amazon is a sexy beast.  Seducing me again with one click shopping and Two-day Prime delivery.   I’ve also discovered that I really dislike watching my  bank account go down, down, down.  Hence the rather large pile of unopened bills.   Well, well, well… lookie here… a Bed, Bath and Beyond coupon at the bottom of the pile.  How can I pass that up?  There’s got to be some Yankee Candle or quirky wine glass charm that I must own.  Since I get 20% off…that’s financially responsible…ish.  Isn’t it?

Verdict: FAIL

amazon boxes bills

~o0o~

2- I’m going to eat healthy.

 I had two cups of coffee and a handful of jellybeans for breakfast.  Does that answer this question?

 Verdict: FAIL

 ~o0o~

3- I’m going to exercise six days a week.

 I wanted to.  I really did. I had grand plans of setting up an exercise room in the basement.  Dusting off my dumbbells and kettle bells, locating all the Biggest Loser DVDs and removing the piles of laundry off my Total Gym…but it was cutting into my naptime. (They don’t call me The Napster for nothing.)

 So…unless you count lifting a coffee cup to my mouth and digesting jellybeans (which does expend some calories, doesn’t it?  I’m pretty sure that has to be close to a wash) as exercise, I’d say….

Verdict:  FAIL

~o0o~

4-I’ll be less cynical.

 Bwahhh… yeah, right.

Verdict: Let’s be honest -This was never going to happen.

~o0o~

5- I’m going to be more social.  Reconnect with old friends.

 I admit… I haven’t actually tried to reconnect with anyone.  I was waiting to lose some weight first, so I looked good. (See, vanity can be your friend). If you’ve read my Resolutions # 2 & 3, you can guess how that’s going.

However, I did “like” two facebook postings on my facebook newsfeed.  That’s pretty darn social for me.  I know it’s a stretch, but it’s something.

Verdict: I’m taking half credit for this. We’ll call it FAIL-ISH.

~o0o~

 6- I’m going to organize my life.

You’ve seen the pile of bills and Amazon boxes…want to take a stab at how this resolution went down?

Verdict: FAIL

~o0o~

 7- I’m going to keep up with my gardening.  Weed a little bit every day.

 It’s too early for mosquito season (although I’m sure if those blood sucking bastards could find a way, they’d locate me in a blizzard).  That said, there’s a lot of plant pruning that needs to be done. My yard is still full of fall leaves.  I should bag them.  I could log that as exercise and accomplish Resolution # 3 …but it’s cold out there.  I hate the cold.  I’ll wait until we get one of those freak eighty-five degree days in the middle of winter.  Until then, I’ll continue to stare at a yard full of dead leaves and lifeless dried clematis vines wrapped around very pretty arbors.

Verdict: FAIL

~o0o~

8- I’m going to drink less wine.

 I’m still laughing at this one.  As I write this, last night’s wine glass is drying in the dish rack in my kitchen.

Verdict:  FAIL

~o0o~

9- I’m going to stop wasting my valuable time on stupid facebook games.

 Confession…I got a new tablet for Christmas.  So now I waste my valuable time on new game apps.  Flow Free is going to drive me insane.  But I can’t stop myself.  And I don’t want to brag (but I will) …I’m awesome at Four Pictures One Word.  Awesome!

 Verdict:  MEGA FAIL

 ~o0o~

 However, I still forgive myself…

For not being the perfect parent… because next to some of the mothers I’ve seen on Reality TV…I’m Mother of the Century.

For not being the perfect wife… but loving my husband, who I don’t expect to be perfect in return— However, he could be a little closer to perfect  if he could just put  his dirty dishes in the dishwasher, instead of the kitchen sink which is RIGHT NEXT TO the dishwasher. And it’s sweet that he cleans up after dinner, but his version of cleaning up is placing dirty dishes in the sink.  That’s it.  USE THE DISHWASHER!   It’s not too hard to figure out how to place a glass in the rack.  And another thing….the kitchen isn’t “cleaned up” unless you wipe down the counters and any spills on the stove.  He’s a very smart man…yet he has not yet figured this out.

For feeling like I failed… when at least I triedI suppose I could try a little harder.

For not finishing my book this year: FINALLY!  Something positive.  You may recall back in October, I was struggling with “Evil Chapter Nine” in my book.  I’m happy to say, I have beat the beast and I’m finally moving forward.  I’m currently editing less evil Chapter Ten and Eleven.

I’ve received a few PMs regarding my Fifty Shades of Grey fanfictions.  Now that I’ve crossed Evil Chapter Nine off my list, and life’s bumps are…slightly less bumpy and I got my writing mojo back…. I will start working on the next chapter of Fifty Shades- A Different Way.  I’ve had a few requests for more Late Night Thoughts- 20 Year Later.   I have a few thoughts on One Shots.  So we’ll see…right now my answer is Definitely Maybe.  That story is like home to me…and there’s no place like home.

dorothy

My 2014 New Year’s Resolutions and Other Tall Tales.

Many of us look at the New Year as a clean slate, a start over.  We make promises to ourselves regarding the way we are going to better our lives, whether it be through diet and exercise, work related or just trying to be a better person.

Here’s a list of My New Year’s Resolutions (or Tall Tales, as I like to call them)

1- Be more financially responsible.

One click shopping at Amazon has been my downfall. I also tend to let the bills pile up until they’re a nightmare to manage.  I rarely balance my checkbook.  I really should work on that… after all the after Christmas sales, of course.  Then again, isn’t January known for “White Sales’? I could always use more towels.

2- I’m going to eat healthy.

After I finish all the cookies, chips and candy in the house.    Don’t want to throw money in the trash, wouldn’t be ‘financially responsible’ (See Resolution #1).  I think there are a few microwave pizzas in the freezer too.  Can’t waste that… it wouldn’t be frugal. Besides, pizza covers all the major food groups, if you work the food group system. If I try hard enough, I’m betting I could maneuver cheesecake on to the healthy diet side too. I’m pretty sure I can manipulate any food to the healthy side…Resolution #2 may be moot.

3- I’m going to exercise six days a week.

 Hmmm…that could cut into my naptime on the weekends.  There’s no way in hell I’m giving that up. Okay, okay… I’ll only exercise on week days.  Then again, I should rest my muscles too.  I’ve read that’s very important.  Don’t want to injure myself.  Maybe I’ll exercise three days a week.  Two sounds even better.

4-I’ll be less cynical.

  Bwahhh… yeah, right.

5- I’m going to be more social.  Reconnect with old friends.

No I won’t.  There’s a reason why I stopped contact in the first place. Most of my ‘old friends’ annoyed the crap out of me.  Anyway it’s just more obligations, parties to attend, Girl Scout cookies to purchase, Christmas cards I’ll have to write out in December.  Scratch this idea.

6- I’m going to organize my life.

 The more likely scenario is I’ll buy more crap and add it to the pile, or hide stuff in the closets and create another junk draw.

7- I’m going to keep up with my gardening.  Weed a little bit every day.

Until the first mosquito bites me, then screw it, I’m done.

8- I’m going to drink less wine.

It’s okay, I’m laughing at that one too.

9- I’m going to stop wasting my valuable time on stupid facebook games.

As soon as I win Candy Crush…I swear.

~o0o~

Chances are these tall tale resolutions will fade into memory by January 15th.  But there are some truths I will carryover to 2014.

I will forgive myself…

 

For not being the perfect parent… but always loving my children with all my heart and soul and doing the best I can for them.

For not being the perfect wife… but loving my husband, who I don’t expect to be perfect in return. We are fiercely loyal to each other.  We laugh together.  We cry together.  When one is down, the other holds them up. We love each other. Simple. That’s really all we need.

For feeling like I failed… when at least I tried.

For not finishing my book this year. You can’t predict life’s bumps… but you can weather the storm and come out the other side.  My husband told me when I was eighteen I mentioned that I thought it would be interesting to write a book.  I don’t remember that conversation. He was the person who told me to write it.  He has so much faith in me, he gives me faith.  So I’ll open up that Word document and let the story flow again.

~o0o~

I wish you all a Happy and Healthy 2014.

Peace to All,

Annette

PEACE LOVE HAPPINESS LOGO

Trust Me… Someone Is Having a Worse Day Than You.

Traffic is a bitch.  It wastes time… my very precious time.  It wastes gas… very expensive gas.  It tests your patience… the patience you didn’t have in the first place.

I used to be one of those people who bitched and moaned about traffic.  I’d curse other drivers (they’re all idiots…of course, I’m an excellent driver), the highway engineers (who the hell designed these roads?), the traffic gods (spiteful, spiteful, spiteful)… everyone and anyone.  Moan, curse (and curse and curse), grumble, complain…I could teach Varuca Salt a thing or two about bitching.

 Last year I was involved in a car accident.  Luckily my car did everything it was designed to do in an accident.  (Thank you engineers at Ford). The steering wheel and side airbags deployed, the front end crushed in like an accordion, right down to the drivers side door and the seatbelts locked.  I had a hell of a bruise from the seatbelt, but it sure as hell beat having my face crashing through the windshield.

My beautiful car was totaled.  I had my first (and hopefully last) ambulance ride to a hospital.  I hurt like hell, but all in all, things could have been so much worse.

 The accident occurred at the busiest intersection in my town.  It caused a major back up of traffic.  A long line of cars had no choice but to wait while two crushed SUV’s were towed away and the debris cleaned up.

 A few weeks later, we were driving on the highway and came into a three mile line of traffic. Normally this would set me off on a not-so-kid-friendly four letter word tirade.  But my perspective had changed.

I realized something…there’s someone else having a worse day than me.  I’m not trapped in a mangled car.  I’m not hurt.  I’m not going to worry about my passengers injuries or how I’m going to get to work without a car.  I’m not riding in an ambulance.

 I’m simply inconvenienced.  Someone else is having a worse day.

 I write this as I spend my first full day home from my kid’s nine day hospital stay.  I slept on a cot in his room.  My husband slept on a narrow couch.  I did not leave the building for nine days.

 At times, I was overwhelmed by the situation.  A parent’s worse fear is their child gets so ill, they need to be hospitalized.  It sucked.   I made my deals with God on the ride to the hospital.  I called on my deceased father to watch over us. I was scared to death. Terrified.

Once we settled in and treatment was in place, I relaxed.  We put our trust in the medical team.

When your kid is hospitalized, it puts a lot of things in perspective.  It opens your eyes. You walk around the hospital and see young children in masks, walking through hallways dragging their IV towers beside them. It’s humbling. I don’t need to see their diagnosis to know that for as tough as I have it, some other parent has it tougher.  With time, patience and strength, my child will recover.  Not everyone is as lucky.

 For as long as our road may be, someone else has it worse.

Does this mean I think no one should ever complain?  No. Complain away. We’re only human.  We need to vent.  It’s the way we’re wired.

Just keep in mind that someone out there is having a worse day than you.

 So, bitch… moan and be thankful.

Evil Chapter Nine

I have a new arch nemesis.  Chapter Nine.  For three long weeks I have been writing this damn chapter.  It’s a bitch of a fighter.  This isn’t a case of writers block.  I know what I want to write.  I see it.  It’s all playing out in my head, clear as a sunny day.  I just can’t seem to get the words to leave my head and transfer onto the Word document.  Chapter Nine won’t allow it to happen.  I’ll pound a sentence out on my keyboard then… nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.  The big Zippo.  It’s frustrating the hell out of me.

I really don’t understand why it’s so hard.  It’s a fun chapter to write.  Honestly, all of the chapters have been fun to write…some more stubborn than others, but fun nonetheless. I like my characters, well most of them.  I like their friends.  I wish they were real so I could hang out and have a couple of drinks with them.

I tend to write the same sentence fifty different ways until I like the way it sounds.  I’m not a stickler for proper grammar if the dialogue sounds like normal people talking.  I like to play with words, flip them around and make it feel right.  Flip them one way…eh, maybe I’ll flip them another way and see how that flows…you get the idea.  Maybe I’m an over-flipper.

I’m at the point now where I feel like flipping off Evil Chapter Nine.

 Funny thing is, chapter ten, eleven and so on are written… they need editing, but they’re done for the most part. Hell, the ending is written. They’re patiently waiting on this chapter so they can get prettied up and move forward.

My goal is to finish Evil Chapter Nine today. Of course, I’m already procrastinating by writing this blog entry.  When my book is finally published (do you hear the angels singing?) and if you are so inclined to read it (of course you are)…take special notice of Evil Chapter Nine.

 The Chapter that tried to do me in.

 On a side note, some of you may be wondering what happened to Shelly…my Muse.  The one thing I could count on to inspire me and help me through these tough times.  Well, Shelly’s been sleeping on the job.  It ends up Shelly is a lazy little whore, living in a hedonistic threesome with another shell and a starfish.

Image

 I’m on my own once again.