Is there such a thing as writing-guilt?
Or would that be non-writing guilt?
There must be a proper term out there assigned to the feeling we writers get when we don’t write for a few days, it’s like we, also known as I, lose the rhythm, like I’m jump roping without missing a beat, double-dutching with my eyes closed even, then boom! My legs get all tangled up and I’m down for the count. Like I’m riding a bike with my eyes closed, sailing along smoothly on freshly laid pavement till I run over a pebble and crash into a brick wall.
It’s not writer’s block, I have a million things to write about and in fact I should be writing my chapter of the Fiction Relay right about now and that’s just the tip of the writing iceberg.
Question: So why am I wasting time babbling?
Answer: Because I need to get my toes wet before I dive in. Or {insert appropriate writing-related analogy of your choice}.
write time

My mind is overflowing with words wanting to break out of my head and onto the virtual page but (say it with me) I haven’t had time. And when I did have any time in the last few days I’ve been internet-less. Without internet. Internet-interruptus.
Yeah I know, I could have done things the old fashioned way and used a pen and paper but that would turn into some kind of jumbled mess, only because that’s the most apt description of my last few days, a jumbled mess.
It started on Monday, which was the last time I wrote anything here. I knew I would be in the Land Without Internet due to my Dad’s non-internet house, no big deal thought I, it would only be a dayish or so, I figured I could steal borrow internet usage from the school where the election was being held. Except there was no school that day, no computers or internet being used by the teachers/students there or anywhere near enough for me to grab onto.
Even if there had been anything available it turned into the Election Day From Hell.
It’s bad enough having to be at the Polls by 5:15am, but the usual 4 people working the polls {I can’t say those last 3 words without hearing the song “Breaking The Law” by Judas Priest in my head} turned into 3 because someone called out sick. Usually they would send someone else but apparently there was a rash of callouts on Tuesday. I’m pretty sure the fact that there were 4 elections this year, which would put everyone over the amount of money allowed before having to claim it on our taxes had nothing to do with it, just a coincidence I’m sure.
Usually it wouldn’t be a big deal with just 3 of us but the person who called out was the woman who always and without fail runs the show, in other words, as much as I like this woman, she’s the kind of person who holds on tight to all the information and how to do certain things paperwork-wise. Not that we couldn’t figure it out ourselves, it’s just a lot easier to do something if you’re aware of what needs to be done, and when you work straight through a 16 hour day, your mind gets fuzzy by the end of the night, especially if you have a day like we had on Tuesday.
It was packed. Everyone and their neighbor, literally, came out to vote which, yay but then again not so much because there was a ghost in the machine. Go on, laugh if you must, but something wacky was going on with the voting machine which required complete oversight to make sure each vote went through accurately because we have to make sure all the numbers add up equally at the end of the night. Long ugly story short, we had to call for a new machine and switch machines while making sure the neverending line of voters could still vote.
So no big deal, right? Wrong.
For one thing the reason the kids had off that day was that the teachers were having a CPR demonstration in the gym, right next to where the voting booths are set up and may I say that every single teacher in attendance would have gotten detention if they were students for all the laughing and shouting they did. We actually had to shut the doors to the gym because voters were complaining about the noise.
And then there were all the dummies they brought in for demonstration; there we were, doing our civic duty as what looked like dead bodies were being rolled smack dab through the middle of us.
Then a whole bunch of cornstalks fell on my head.
Yeah, you read that right, a whole bunch of cornstalks, real actual life-sized cornstalks fell on my head.
Someone at the school decided it would be a good idea to decorate with stacks of hay and cornstalks. I think they forgot that they would eventually begin to wither and die. They also forgot the concept of the stench of rotting cornstalks and the invasion of critters of unknown origin in said cornstalks.
They made a lot of noise and you can’t convince me they weren’t either infested with critters or, there was a ghost in the cornfield.
I’m going with the ghost theory because the critter theory freaks me out, considering the fact that a whole bunch of cornstalks fell on my head.

I wonder if that had anything to do with the nagging headache I’ve had since then?
Question: So why didn’t I write yesterday?
Answer: Because a whole bunch of cornstalks fell on my head.

I can go on and on with the jumbled mess these last few days have been, excuses reasons as to why I didn’t write yesterday, all the catch-up-ons I had to do, laundry and chores and food shopping oh my, but in the end, as far as I’m concerned there is really only one excuse reason: a whole bunch of cornstalks fell on my head.

Tune in tomorrow {or hopefully sooner} when I’m back on track with my writing, when my chapter of the Fiction Relay is close to being done and I can get back to my usual attempts at poetry and continue with my own Apocalypse stories I’ve been working on.
Providing there are no more cornstalks falling on my head.
voting booth

{August 19, 2013}   Asses And Awards ~ Blahg Words

My newbie status is showing.
I feel like the girl who went to the ladies room and unknowingly got her skirt all tangled up with her stockings, strutting around a room full of people thinking she’s all kinds of cool only she isn’t.
Ok so yeah, I do have what is referred to as a nice ass, but I don’t want it on display for the entire world to see. (although I’m ok with parts of the world seeing my nice ass, just not the entire world)
What does my nice ass have to do with my newbie status you may ask?
Ahem, go on, ask, I’ll wait here till you do.
{cue Jeopardy theme song}
Yes, you in the red shirt in the back of the room? (you might want to re-think your color choice, red shirts always get killed first)
Thank you for asking, you’re very kind, but my nice ass really doesn’t have anything to do with my newbie status, I just threw that in there because, you know, sex sells.
So here’s the thing, I keep seeing all these award thingies on your blogs.
I don’t get it, hence the newbieness showing.
And to make it worse, I have been nominated for one of those award thingies and I did nothing about it because, umm, because, well, Ididn’tknowwhattodosoIignoreditandnowIfeeldumb.
I know, I shouldn’t be all award hungry, awards are cool and should be legitimately earned but damn they sure look pretty when I see them elsewhere.
Is there a Pity Award? How about a Pathetic Award? Maybe a You’re Too Stupid To Get An Award Award? Or a You Missed Your Chance Bitch So Deal With It Award?
I once got an award for bowling when I was in Junior High School. It was for last place and it was the back end of a jackass.
OH! LOOK! There is a connection between asses and awards!
Because everyone wants a Last Place Award, right?
Ok, I jest. Mostly. I know it’s not about the awards, it’s about the words. It’s also about you dear reader, because when it comes down to it, there is no greater Award than the feeling that comes from knowing you have taken the time to read my words.
In the end, no amount of Awards can beat that.

et cetera