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My Brain is a Lame Metaphor

I am not even going to apologize for making my Lame Post Friday post on Saturday morning. I have been missing a day here and there, and I feel bad about that. Apparently not bad enough to go ahead and post every day, but these things happen.

This morning I feel drained. We had a full day yesterday. We plan more shenanigans today. I am just now taking my first sips of coffee. I feel a glimmering of life returning to my body if not my mind.

The fact is, I have once again been having the damnedest time writing. I just squeezed that second paragraph out, wringing it from my brain drip by painful drip (side note: autocorrect made (“brain drip” be “raindrop.” I hate officious editors!). It also took some effort to make that a metaphor instead of a simile. I prefer metaphor.

Speaking of metaphor, here is a longtime saying of mine. When somebody says, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” I say, “You catch the most flies of all with a pile of shit.” After they stop laughing, I say, “And who wants to catch flies?” Also, “Give me a metaphor, I’ll beat it till it screams.”

Well, that’s 200 words. Autocorrect made “200” be “00.” Everybody’s a critic!

Truman Capote Applies

Late posts. It has been a thing for a while now. Who knew getting back into daily blogging would be so hard for me (oh, YOU probably knew)(you know who you are)? At any rate, here I sit Friday morning, typing in (pecking one letter at a time with the stylus) (as Turman Capote once said, that’s not writing, that’s typing) what I believe will qualify as a Non-Sequitur Thursday Post.

I woke this morning with a raging headache. Seriously, in a lifetime of headaches big and small, this one was in the top ten for sheer pain. However, I knew I could not call in to work or I will not get paid for the Monday holiday, and, you know, money. Coffee, Gatorade, and a few neck stretches helped.

My niece is No. 8

One reason I did not post last night is that I traipsed off to Little Falls, NY, for another field hockey game. It did not rain, but the wind was cold! I’m all, “Bring on fall!” but I wish I had dressed a little more warmly.

Where’s the ball?

Having very little else to say, I throw in another picture.

And I just had a minor crisis trying to italicize my captions. I feel quite traumatized, and my headache is back. On the brighter side, I am over 200 words. Score! I will strive to make my Lame Post Friday post later today, when it is still actually Friday.

Not Really a Post

So I went to bed on Sunday without making a blog post and I don’t feel up to making one this morning. I’m just going to come out and say it: I am depressed and under stress, and blog posts may become sporadic for a while.

Hey, “depressed” and “stressed” rhyme. Maybe I could make this a poetry blog.

To start with I was quite depressed

And then I got a little stressed

It’s hard to write

When under blight

As life becomes more messed.

That was the best I could come up with prior to 5 a.m. But it will have to do.

Nachos and Conversation

Late Lame Post. It’s a thing. Without going into details (as I often say, explanations are so tiresome), I am going through a stressful time, and I do not seem to be handling it well. I may even be falling apart. Come on, Cindy, pull yourself together! Sometimes that sort of exhortation works.

Last night I indulged myself by going for a bite to eat at Jamo’s in Herkimer, NY (where I live). The angel on one shoulder said, “Don’t do it! Eat at home and save money!” The devil on the other shoulder said, “It’s called self care.” Come to think about it, perhaps I have that backwards and it was the devil urging the more depressing option. Additionally (although I did not think of this at the time), I was supporting the local economy and a very nice local business.

What the hell is it with not being able to add captions? Damn it!

I sat at the bar and ordered a glass of wine. I told the bartender about how the last time I was there, I had leaned my purse against the wall, it had fallen over, knocking down my wine glass, and I had burst into tears.

“I was feeling emotional,” I said. “I am kind of emotional today.” Actually, once I had made up my mind and was at Jamo’s, I felt better. Incidentally, I wrote a blog post about the bursting into tears incident, which I would link to if I could remember the title (I can’t).

I was delighted to find nachos on the menu. I immediately ordered them. The bartender told me that favorites come and go. I will remember that and not feel too bad the next time I don’t see nachos available.

Of course I had brought a notebook, but I did not have anything to write. Then I saw a partial scene from a long-ago novel. I started this novel back in the early 00’s, and this snippet of a scene I had written maybe a year ago. I wrote the next sentence. Then a page more! It was great!

The bartender asked if I was writing down all my stress. I explained it was a snippet of a novel and that I had a problem with finishing novels.

“My sister has four novels on Amazon and I haven’t got any!”

She asked what sort of novels I wrote, and we talked about that which led to me telling her about the murder mystery dinner theatre scripts I write. I felt happy to tell her I actually finish something!

Later on a young man sat at the other end of the bar and ordered a beer. The three of us chatted about beer, church youth groups retreats, and all manner of things. It was fun! When I got ready to leave, I told them how much I had enjoyed myself and hoped to meet them again sometime. They echoed the thought.

“Maybe at Heelpath Brewing,” the bartender said, since that was one of the things we chatted about.

Back home, I took a picture of my burgeoning peonies, just to further cheer myself up.

I was happy I had gone to Jamo’s, although my stomach wished I had ordered something lighter. In my defense, YUM! I am feeling cheerier this morning, especially having written this blog post (over 500 words! Wow!) (for me, I know other bloggers write much more on a regular basis). I almost feel I should delete the first paragraph. The post can stand perfectly well, perhaps better, without it. Yet I will let it stand. There is no shame in admitting one is having problems. But I hope everyone reads to the end when I say: I will be fine. Nachos and conversation are excellent medicine!

Who, Me? Write?

I actually started writing a real post yesterday while I was at work. You see, I had a stern talk with myself about Writing More. To that end, I did NOT bring a puzzle book to work but only a notebook (the paper, spiral-bound kind) and pen (um, and my lunch, safety glasses, phone, purse, etc.). And my meager brain. It was not enough to get the job done.

Oh, I wrote a page of my usual breezy stuff, concerning Kim’s and my visit to The Saalty Dog Saloon. I probably could have finished it. However, right now, I am ten-finger typing on my laptop. The pictures from the saloon are on my Tablet, which is upstairs. Me, go upstairs again? Wait for the laptop to turn on, have trouble logging in (it has this thing when you first power it up), and one-letter-peck with the stylus (if I have not lost the pen again)? I suppose I could, but right now I am enjoying to ten-finger type. I really must get a new laptop so I can do this more often.

In the meantime, since this blog is also a kind of a record of my Writing Endeavors (which may or may not deserve the capitalization), I will record that I am once again having the damnedest time. I have said it before and I will say it again: Sometimes you cannot just put yourself in front of a blank page and say, “Write! Write, damn you!” Oh well, perhaps some of you can. I cannot.

What can I do? That seems a better approach than lamenting what I cannot. To begin with, it seems I am very adept at writing about Not Writing. I don’t imagine I can get a novel out of that. Or can I? I close the blog and begin to brainstorm this promising start.

And My Finger Is Sore

This is going to be a short, grumpy post. Oh, and a late post. I am sitting on my couch, icing my suspected tennis elbow (not diagnosed, because the insurance at my new job hasn’t kicked in yet), sipping coffee, and pecking away at my Tablet, using my finger, because I left (or lost) my stylus pen upstairs. I guess these are what they snarkily call First World Problems. I call it pissing (no, not kissing, autocorrect!) and moaning about nothing in particular.

That was a long paragraph for me.

I took a long run yesterday. It would have made a great Running Commentary Post, if I had remembered all the in-head narration with which I entertained myself as I went. These thing very often do not work out for me.

I mowed the lawn but did not do enough else to make a Lawn Order Post eligible. Likewise my movie viewing was insufficient for a proper Cinema Sunday Post.

So this is my Late Post About Not Making a Post Yesterday. I really must replace my laptop and get back to ten-fingered typing. And make more better blog posts.

“Hey, Kid…”

OK, It’s a late Saturday Post (Saturday Evening Post?). I guess it’s a weekend thing. Judge me if you are so inclined.

Our luncheon with friends didn’t happen, but Kim came over and we had pizza and a few laughs. I was in sweats by then but feeling bad about not getting dressed up with fancy hats. So we improvised.

Every day is Halloween!

This was the first time I wore my spider fascinator, which I picked up at a garage sale to benefit H.A.L.O., the local cat rescue organization (just to give them another plug).

And a bottle of rum?

The the pirate hat was purchased for a Halloween costume in Georgia, back in the early 00’s. Waste not, want not, I always say.

As a Facebook friend said, “And we have a winner!”

I acquired this hat more recently at a church rummage sale. An elderly man working at it kept modeling the hats to entice me to buy them. It worked. I think this looks like one worn by the character Ilsa Lunt in Casablanca. Ingrid Bergman has got nothing on Steve!

As always, when I see striking hats, I remember the Roger Miller song, “Hey, kid, where’d you get the lid? Where’s you get a hat like that?” I just loves me some Roger Miller.

Do I Do the Weekend?

I feel it is unbecoming when I do not have the mental wherewithal for even a Lame Post Friday Post on Friday. Additionally, I am out of bed prior to 5 a.m. on Saturday after five days of strenuously wishing I could sleep in. In other words, I am not doing this weekend thing right.

However, self-recrimination is tiresome. I watched a couple good episodes of Dateline, finished knitting a scarf and started another, and generally relaxed myself.

Oh, and I did a load of laundry and spent a very little time tidying my living room. Every week I have a plan to do at least a little cleaning every day, thinking I will eventually attain a clean house. Then I do a very little not every day and feel stupid. Still, I continue to hold the hope that this week will be different.

So maybe this week my week begins on Friday. I did a little yesterdaym I can do a little more today. It! Could! Work! (That is Gene Wilder in Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein, one of my favorite movies.)

I see I am approaching 200 words. I believe this post is sufficiently lame to qualify for a late Lame Post Friday Post. I’ll try to make Saturday’s post on Saturday, but no promises.

Now I’ll Try to Sleep Again

I guess I fell asleep without making my Saturday blog post. These things happen. Why is it that one can snooze on the couch while the television continues to play something one was totally interested in, no problem, then when one goes upstairs to a comfortable bed in a darkened bedroom, one remains wide awake?

It’s not that I am one of those people who need noise to sleep. Steven used to like to sleep with the radio on. I made him use the Sleep function, which made it play for an hour then shut off. As for having a television in the bedroom, forget it!

So I don’t know what my problem is, but here I am at one in the morning, wide awake. Usually, I do not get out of bed. Normally I stay in bed, doing relaxation techniques which I make up for myself, until eventually I sleep again.

This time, I could hear that Steven had gotten back up and was watching a movie. He has insomnia, too, but is not the longtime sufferer that I am. I have always had insomnia. I should be used to it by now. But I decided to get back up and make my neglected blog post.

Who knew I was going to spend 200 words griping about my insomnia? Oh, you probably knew (you know who you are). But so I have. Good night again.

It’s Not Right to Not Write

Yes, this is another late post. I just did not want to make the attempt last night. I am going through a bad writing period. Not to make too many complaints, but I have a few personal problems as well. There may be no solution to the personal problems; after all, no matter what I do, I will always be the same person.

However, the solution to writing problems, according to almost anyone you ask, is Write Just Write.

I have always maintained that it is not that simple. I still maintain that, but now I want to shout at myself: Of course it’s not that simple! Nothing is simple! It never will be! Just do it!

So here I am, babbling on. I made this concession to my laziness: I am lounged on the couch, pecking at the Tablet with the stylus instead of sitting upright at the laptop,industriouslly industriously (how do like this: I made the typo of putting two “l”s in “industrustiously” and now my autocorrect thinks that is how you spell it!).

And I have not much to say. However, I am approaching 200 words, and I need to get back to dealing with my day. I will attempt to Write Just Write a better blog post later,