I’m telling you, I know I haven’t posted much since you-know-who showed up on the scene, but I actually go about my day composing posts in my head. Rehearsing them out loud to myself. Dictating them to Olive. And yet here I sit and I haven’t the faintest idea what a blessed one was. Dang it anyway.
One thing… along the lines of my silly, overly melodramatic writing insecurities… I have a strong conviction that no one really reads this thing (except my father-in-law…thanks, Gary!), which is mildly depressing at times and not a little overstated, to be fair. Yet on the phone I hear about someone who does read it and actually discusses it with someone else who reads it and I’m suddenly wracked with nerves… what have I been writing?? Anything incriminating? Offensive? Anything that will totally change their perception of me? What on earth must they think? AND WHAT DO THEY SAY?!?! And then mentally I locate the little voice that’s saying all this, deck it, do a Legally Blonde-esque little whoooo while shaking it off, and give myself a cookie. Hey, someone’s reading this. On purpose. And whatever it is that they’re talking about, at least I’m saying something worth chatting about later. That’s pretty darn good! And that little voice will continue to get punched out till it shuts the heck up.
I’m cracking myself up at how the little five year old Elle shows up in all this, continually stomping her foot.