Write here, write now

Welcome to Day 1 of Blogging For Your Life. (Don’t worry; I’m not going to chronicle each day with day 1, day 2, day 3, day 2384) Since this is the month of writing, I’ll write today about writing. Or, the lack thereof.

If you have Familiarized Yourself at all, you might remember my mention of the shallow waters of the freelance writing pool. My intention upon leaving my lab job last February was to stave off the likelihood of tubes in Gab’s ears thanks to germ central/immunity building daycare and experience the life of round-the-clock mommy. [We successfully made it through the remainder of last winter at home with no more ear infections. We're crossing our fingers for this winter. And, I know, tubes are perfectly safe and everybody's doing it...I'm just a worry wart about such things...I'll over-analyze the contents of a multi-vitamin and decide I'm doing just fine without it.] [But, yes, I take my prenatal vitamin, my 2 folic acid pills, and 2, yes 2, iron pills per day. When did I turn 80 and require a pill organizer?]

Back on the track. I told E. not to worry…I’d be able to coast on through to summer by cashing in my retirement and squeezing every penny out of my tax return to cover COBRA payments and keep me afloat. In the meantime, I’d pick up some writing gigs. Yes, I was that casual about it. “Oh, lookie over there. A writing gig just laying around. Let me pick that up and make it mine. Oh precious, little writing gig, come to Mommy.” Ahem. You know? They’re about as abundant as stray $100 bills on the ground. I’m beginning to think I have a better chance of sprouting a tail.

Do I have writing experience? Well, I guess that depends on your perspective. As the eternal college student, I have written papers out the wazoo. Big papers, little papers, just the right size papers. Grad school was a real butt kicker with its forced required oral presentations, journal clubs, seminars, meetings,… Each of those joys of life came with its own many hours of preparation and writing. (maybe there was some a lot of procrastinating on my part, and maybe I hid under professors’ desks before any and every such presentation, “Come on, dee. Get out from under there. You have a talk to give and I’ll lose tenure if anyone walks in right now,” and maybe once being forced casually strolling to the podium or stage, I would stand in silence for 30 seconds contemplating the flight response of ‘fight-or-flight‘ from the room, telling science and its oral presentations to kiss my big, white patooty, and abandoning whatever belongings I had stashed in the room…but, my backpack full of pens and pencils always kept me on course; I could never leave all those wonderful pens I’d hoarded from the lab supply closet.)

I will tell you no lie. I loathe pubic speaking with a deep, burning passion. I was the child who wouldn’t speak even when spoken to. I was so quiet in elementary school, my second grade teacher put me in the special ed. class (and not ’special’ as in gifted…no, the other kind of ’special’…granted, I’m no three time Jeopardy champion, but I can hold my ground in a room full of smarty pants). I was only in the class long enough to complete a math sheet when the teacher asked me, all perplexed, “Umm, dee, honey, who told you to come in here today? Are you lost?” I guess I must have spoken at that point for I found myself returned to my regularly scheduled programming. [round about related story: I almost died in the same clueless second grade teacher's class. I had a seizure and swallowed my tongue while the teacher, writing on the board, had her back to the class. Several students noticed my role winning audition of Violet the Blueberry and alerted the teacher, "Ms. Clueless Wonder, dee fell out of her chair and is turning blue, " to which she still refused to even turn around, "Oh, she's probably just picking up her pencil." Someone ran to get the principal and all was saved with a metal spoon. But, dang, come on. End of round about related story.]

So, we’ve established my disdain for pubic speaking. I can, however, write the material. And, that leads me to the here and now. Swimming in the freelance writing pool. Or winning the lottery. Whichever comes first. (yes, I know…the lottery win)

See you crazy cats tomorrow!