Moan, groan, bitch and whine. I’m entitled to a pity party, and you are all invited. What?! You say you don’t want to come? That you have other more urgent plans, like watching the bread in your pantry grow mold? Can’t say as I blame you. Who wants to attend a pity party? Nobody, that’s who. Including me. I don’t even want to attend my own.
So, why do I write about it? Because it’s real. It’s true. It’s me, and it’s now. Yes, Accuweather.com assures me that tomorrow the sun will shine, but right now I’m feeling bogged down. Word is giving me fits (have I ever mentioned how much I hate Microsoft Word? And like OpenOffice?) as I work on my presentation for Story Circle Network’s Stories From the Heart conference that begins on February 1. I’m in over my head in trying to configure the wireless card for the laptop I converted to Ubuntu. I broke the rules on an Absolute Write Water Cooler forum game thread. I’m tired even thinking about figuring out how to put downloadable files on my website.
Enough of that. As I said, this is real. This day is my Truth. But, how many people are going to write for posterity about days like this? If you’re like me, you tend to paint your stories with a brush filled with sunshine, and paint out the storms and shadows. That’s okay. You may. But why not let your descendants see your back as well as your smile? Let them know that things weren’t perfect every day. After all, my current woes are hardly due to anything I’ve done. I’m simply overwhelmed by technology at the moment. They probably will be too. They may derive hope from evidence that they spring from resilient stock.
So, I choose to write about enough days like this to show them that “S(tuff) Happens,” and when it does, I deal with it. I’ll write about taking a break to read a few chapters of a mind candy novel to distract myself. About going to bed early for a few extra Zzzz’s so tomorrow I’ll wake refreshed and ready to tackle these puzzles anew. I’ll write about writer’s block and other barriers to writing.
In fact, just writing this blog about my horrible, awful, terribly bad day is making me feel better already. Should I delete the file now, or post this? Yes. I’ll post it. You may be having your own horrible, awful, terribly bad day. Yours may be way worse, like losing your job or something, and I wouldn’t want you to feel alone. Maybe readers who are feeling calm, joyful, or energetic will blow some virtual breaths of peace our way.
Write now: about a horrible, awful, terribly bad day, or even a whole season or year. List all the awful things about it, and how it came to and end. How the sun began to shine. If the sun hasn’t begun to shine yet, write about what the world will look like when it does.
Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal