Articles

Credit Monitoring, Fingerless Gloves & Lottery

Do you monitor your credit? I haven’t for a long time, mostly because I know Experian has my file messed up, and they pretty much refused to fix it last time I contacted them about it. It’s incredibly frustrating because my maiden name is essentially the same as my dad’s name (James/Jamie), which means even when I contact creditors to have them tell Experian that a line of credit isn’t mine, they get confused too due to the name thing. The last two times I applied for a home loan, I had to write and collect a bunch of letters from my dad and to Experian in order to prove that the lines of credit that are his aren’t mine, and vice versa. It’s insanely annoying.

Enter the great Equifax hack of…well, last spring, I guess. No, I didn’t go look to see if I was affected…I mean, I think it’s safe to assume that my data is out there in the ether. I’m still a bit shocked that they cared so little about security as to ignore three warnings and also failed to update their system with prompt patching (mostly because I’m a database admin, and I am completely paranoid/anal about doing whatever’s necessary to keep the data I’m responsible for safe). But then I think about the customer “service” I’ve received from them in the past, and I’m not so shocked anymore.

In any case, the leading suggestion for keeping your data safe is to freeze your credit report accounts and keep them frozen until/unless you need to apply for credit. Which is something I can’t do, because of the mess with my dad’s records being mixed up with mine. Until/unless that gets fixed, freezing my account could freeze his, and vice versa, and getting it unfrozen could be…well, practically impossible. It’s not worth the risk, and that means no using companies like LifeLock, etc either (since that’s basically what they do for their “protection” services.

But, I have signed up for a free credit monitoring account with Credit Sesame (highly recommended, pulls from all three credit reporting companies, doesn’t lock credit accounts), and I’ll probably spring for one of the lowest monthly tiers for a monthly credit report from all three companies. Just to keep a better eye on things than I do now (which is pretty much ignoring it as much as possible).

Heck, maybe it’ll be good motivation to get some credit paid down. If nothing else just to have more money to pay for the credit monitoring. *sigh*

Aside from that, it was back to work last week, and predicatably my writing output took a bit of a header. But it’s all good, because I started using my very low-tech Alphasmart Neo for all of my late-night writing sessions, and I have to say, I wish I’d done that sooner. So much easier to focus – I started a new story, worked on a different short story, and I’m excited about what I might be able to get done using that method going forward. Focus is good. Focus is everything when it comes to writing.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about crochet/knitting lately, and how I’d love to get back to that on a regular basis. Last week the weather turned cold pretty suddenly as a cold front came through, and I took my fingerless gloves to work. They helped a little, but not a lot because they’re thin. And then I thought about the absolutely gorgeous, soft, fuzzy yarn I bought last weekend, and how warm and cozy that would be for fingerless gloves, and now I’m really wanting to make a pair (or several, in different colors) for the office when it’s cold (so, always).

So that’s a project I want to start this week. I should be able to work on those during the hour in the evenings I watch TV with hubby. As long as I use a somewhat simple pattern, anyways. Though I kind of want to try crochet cables, and that would be a nice, small project to learn them on.

I’ve been thinking about my stamp collection lately too, and my comic books, and my to-be-read pile.

Retirement is only…what…25 yrs away?

I should probably start buying lottery tickets again.

New Habits & Vacation Success

So you know that thing where you’re on vacation, and you think that you should get your normal chores done early so you don’t have to rush around all crazy-like doing them on Sunday to be ready for the work week like normal?

Yeah. I did actually *think* that. I just didn’t actually do it. And we played on Saturday (local home improvement show, grand opening for a new local yarn shop), so all I did then was my normal grocery shopping. Well, that, and I realized that when I was setting up my shiny new Note 8 last week, the one thing I forgot to backup for restoration was my Grocery Tracker app. Read: complete brain for the kitchen, pantry and grocery store so I don’t have to even remember what might need to go on the list – it’s all in a master list that I can refer to when making the actual list, which reminds me of what to check as well as what I might need (if that makes any sense).

In any case, my point is, without the grocery part of my digital brain, I made three (yes, three) trips to various stores this weekend. See how disorganized and inefficient I can be when my carefully curated systems fall apart? Scary, I know. I’ve started rebuilding my grocery list, so next weekend shouldn’t be nearly so disorganized. I hope.

In any case, that’s my extremely long-winded explanation for why this post is a day late. I’m actually writing it on my AlphaSmart Neo during what would normally be my late writing time – it’s nearly midnight Mon/Tues. The weekend got away from me, and I had to use this morning’s writing time to get the BSB weekly post up. So here I am, in my cozy armchair in the office, sparing my sore eyes and trying to start a habit of typing over here instead of on my laptop at my desk. Too much shiny distractive-ness over there. Though the glare of the light in here off the Neo’s rather reflective screen isn’t wonderful, but it’s far easier on my eyes than backlighting. I’d get one of those newfangled typewriters with the e-ink screen, but I hear they don’t have a back button/arrow. That isn’t gonna work for me. I need to be able to fix minor spelling mistakes as I go. It’s important.

In any case, this is the plan for the near future. For my late night writing sessions (which tend to be sidetracked rather quickly), I’m going to grab the Neo and park in my armchair for at least half an hour. I should probably set an alarm so I get to bed at a reasonable hour. Or at least reasonable enough that I can function at work the next day. I think that will probably work much better than trying to write amidst the distractions of email, facebook, etc. Heck, it already is! Far, far easier on the eyes, too.

Last week was the best vacation I’ve had yet. I finished a draft that I really wanted to get done, did a lot of writing, and pretty much just didn’t worry about too much else. I had housework-type stuff that I wanted to get done, but I didn’t, and I really don’t even feel bad about it. It’ll all get done eventually, and I spent my vacation doing what I wanted to do, rather than what I felt needed to be done, and it was structured but loose enough that I could have a lot of wiggle-room. I played with the dogs, read comic books, set up the new cell not just for organization, but for writing and editing too, and slept in (but not too long) every day.

I even made it to the archery range, and shot pretty well considering all the times I’ve missed lately.

Most importantly, I got enough writing done that I feel more “in control” of that area of my life again…like I can handle it and make progress again, instead of spinning my wheels like I sort of was. Which takes a lot of the stress I was putting on myself off. It feels good.

It’s late – I just transferred this to the laptop, and now I need to hit “publish” and then hit the hay so I have a chance of making it to work on time tomorrow (early on Tuesdays – staff meeting).

Hooray for vacations! And yay for good paying, stable jobs, too. 😉

Of Couches & Habits & Things That Are Old

A week ago last Saturday, I ordered a new couch (sofa, whatever). I like couches. Recliners never seem to fit me well, and I like being able to have my dogs laying with me when they want to. A good couch and ottoman are my “necessities” for comfort in the living room.

When we got married and moved into this house nearly 13 yrs ago, we bought a couch and loveseat, but we each had a bunch of other furniture to “merge” as well. So the couch got put downstairs in the “TV/Workout room” (where it still resides) the loveseat was mine, and we had a couple of extra chairs in the living room. The one chair that survived all those years is my reclining armchair, which my parents bought for me when I first moved out of their house. I love it, and now it’s my “reading chair” in the office.

The thing about a loveseat is, there’s really only room for me and one dog. Or one dog stretched out. It was never really an issue before, because I had dogs that never really wanted to be on the couch at the same time, or were only up there together when I wasn’t so they could look out the window. Now I have two dogs who would both be happy cuddling with me on the couch in the evenings…and who get jealous of each other if one is up and the other is not.

So, I decided a sectional would both solve that problem and make the room look a little more “put together” than the mis-matched pieces we’ve had for all these years. Hubby still has his recliner, of course (needs a new one, actually…soon), and we got an old worn out couch free from one of the neighbors last month just to make sure having a sectional wouldn’t make the room look weird/too small. When the new sectional couch comes in, both my old loveseat and that old couch will head to the dump. It’s pretty exciting, really, considering how long we tend to keep furniture. I can’t wait until it gets here…later this week, perhaps?

In other news, breaking my scrolling habit has been…difficult. I need to refine the times I’m allowed to to scroll, because the times I set just really aren’t working for actual interaction, and part of the goal is to be productive while I’m online – not just on Facebook, but on Instagram and Twitter too. I need to set aside time when I can scroll *and participate*, not just scroll. The scrolling is the time-wasting part. So that will be this week’s goal – to find the best time to do that.

As for the “Things That Are Old” part of the title, well, it’s my husband’s birthday today, and he’s 11 yrs older than I am, which makes him “Old(TM)”. LOL And I’d be remiss if I didn’t remind him occasionally throughout the day/year. Because that’s what good wives do. Or what this one does, anyways.

I love older men – I always have, and this one especially (of course). Happy 53rd to the most important man in my life. Like a puerh tea-cake, you’re aging to perfection!

You Say You Want A Revolution…

Keep in mind that I did warn you a few weeks back that summer is the “pensive season”. Deep thoughts, though Dear ol’ Jack Handy would probably twist them into something vastly more entertaining for us…but you’re stuck with me (if you keep reading, that is).

This week is all about changing my perspective – both figuratively and literally. I’m staging a mental revolution, and fighting for freedom from entrapment (of myself, by myself, for myself).

I’ve been pretty doom and gloom about writing lately…not the actual writing, but the fact that I finally got past the “OMG I suck and should just quit” battle only to fall into the “Why do I even try when I have so little time, and the time I have is the wrong time when my brain won’t work and I’m out of the habit and I’m never going to be able to write all the things I now want to write?” Poor-Me-Black-Hole-Of-Despair (TM?).

Honestly. Sometimes I make myself sick with the stupid pity-party crap.

Where there’s a will, there’s a way. No, I can’t do *all the things* (human, no super-powers, etc), but I can write. And I can absolutely carve out just a tiny bit of extra writing time if I want it badly enough. I can also make my writing environment more conducive to getting things done so that when I do have time to write, I’m not as likely to waste it. I mean, I have options here.

There are always, always options. I may not always like them, but they are there, and I can choose to take advantage of them or not. If I know they are there, and choose not to take advantage of them, then Pity-Party Mode is not allowed. Those are the (my) rules.

And this past weekend, my dog pointed out an option (quite by accident) that might help my word count, and last week, I became aware of another option (again quite by accident) that also might help both my word count and my editing/revision progress. I’m still not sure they’re happy accidents, considering the amount of work involved in setting these options in motion, but hey, it’s either that, or…keep on as I am but drop the Pity-Party Mode anyway due to refusing open options.

Tricky, isn’t it?

Since I have to leave the attitude behind either way, might as well try the options, I say. Which in this case means two things: cleaning out and rearranging my home office, and getting up half an hour earlier every morning.

Long story about Murphy-dog and my desk and power cords (if you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you may have seen a pic and read about it), but having to clean out under my desk so Murphy can use that space as a “den” got me to thinking. If I move my desk to the other side of the room, where I can’t see out the office door, and am less likely to hear random noise from the living room, I’m more likely to feel like I’m in a writing “bubble”, which will make it easier to get in the “zone” at night. Also, having a less cluttered office will be less distracting/oppressive. So I started cleaning out my office Sunday, and will finish cleaning/rearranging on Tuesday. I’ll also be adding a sitting area where I can read or write by hand. And I think that will help me make the most of my late night writing hour. Yes, Murphy will still be able to sleep under the desk if he wants.

As for getting up in the morning…I realized last week that I’ve been calculating my sleep cycles incorrectly, and instead of getting up at 6am when I am asleep by 1am, I should be getting up at 5:30am (three 90 minute cycles). I figured that out accidentally when I had to get up at 5:30 one morning, and actually felt way better than when I get up at 6am (which promptly ruined my mood for the day).

Thing is, if I get up at 5:30am, that gives me an extra half hour four mornings a week (I have to be at work early for a staff meeting on Tuesdays) in which I could write before work. I mean, after I’m caffeinated and half-way awake, anyways.

But…5:30. AM. *sigh* Really?! (Shush, morning people.)

Yes, really. Apparently. At least if I’m going to go to bed around midnight and read until 12:30 or so, which is my preference.

So I’m creating a writing “bubble” by rearranging the office, and changing my entire worldview (okay, a small part of my perspective, but still) by getting up earlier to have writing time before work as well. Best case scenario, I’m more productive overall, since I have writing time both late night *and* mornings now.

Worst case scenario, I still can’t mentally wake up fast enough in the morning to actually write, but I have a clean, organized office to work in at night, so the status quo gets a tiny bit better and I can have my pity-party back (if I want it) because I did at least try the options that presented themselves.

We’ll see what my little mental revolution brings about fairly soon, I’d think.

The Pensive Season

I don’t know what it is about summer, but warm, sunny weather always makes me pensive. I mean, I’m an over-thinker on a good day, but summer is when “what if” becomes almost a daily mantra. What if I choose this over that? What if I’d made a different choice 20 yrs ago? What would I do if this life-changing event happened tomorrow? Would my life turn out the same no matter what decisions I make, or do I actually have some control over fate/destiny/whatever you call it?

Yes, I know. Exhausting and in the end, pretty much pointless, but that’s how my brain works, and in the summer, it just seems to be worse. Not much I can do aside from indulging it for a little while, and then forcing myself into a different, more productive headspace.

I’ve always been a dreamer of sorts, which is kind of at odds with my otherwise very practical, logical nature. I remember very clearly laying on my waterbed in the basement as a teen, steno notebook and pen in hand, scribbling/lamenting about whatever guy I happened to be obsessing over at the time (bad habit of mine). I’d lay back, close my eyes, and lose track of time day-dreaming about different scenarios involving said guys and wishing I could just stay in that fantasy world forever.

Writing, of course, is a physical (digital?) manifestation of that sort of day-dreaming habit…when I write, I’m basically day-dreaming on paper, just not about myself anymore. Well, not always, anyway. 😉

And of course when I get in these ultra-pensive moods, I tend to slip back into “day-dream” mode more easily, and it makes me want to write more. Which is frustrating because I only have so much time to spend on that right now. Ideas/day-dreams keep piling up, waiting for me to exorcise them from my head by getting them down in book form.

The co-worker who backs me up when I’m out (and I do the same for him) is in and out of the office for the next month and a half. But after that, I do believe I’ll schedule a week off just for writing. Get some of these ideas out of my head and at least started on paper. Perhaps that will ease the pensiveness a bit.

Even if it doesn’t, it will be fun!

Poem-A-Day Challenge: Week 4 (Final!)

Whew! National Poetry Month is over, and while it was a good learning and habit-forming experience, I have to say, I’m glad it’s over. Of course I didn’t do this alone – Carol R. Ward also wrote a poem every day in April, and she wrote a different form every day as well. It’s her fault I did this, if you recall correctly. I can’t decide if I owe her lunch or she owes me, at this point…but I can say with confidence that we’re both glad to be done.

Without further ado, the last week’s worth of poems, for your perusal, amusement, and/or heavy sighs/groans (it’s okay – they’re drafts – you think I’m not groaning at some of these too?):

Saturday, 4/22: The Storm

Sometimes you see the dark clouds forming,
sometimes you don’t.
Sometimes there’s a sputter, a drizzle, a warning,
sometimes the downpour just starts.

It feels cosmic, the uncanny knack
of catching you unaware.
One moment you’re settled, content, relaxed,
the next you’re gasping for air.

The eye is a tease, a time to rest,
or prepare for
whatever darkness is coming up next.
If you can catch your breath.

The storm is alive, a powerful call,
to survive everyday,
It lives, it breathes, it mocks us all,
whose plans have gone astray.

Sunday, 4/23: The Big Question

Why does “bad” exist?
asked the boy one day
to a woman he thought of as wise.
Why can’t we all just be good?
he mused, as they sat there and
looked at the sky.

Without bad there’s no good,
she answered, staring up
into the blue.
Without bad it would all just be same,
she mused, and I’m not quite
sure what we would do.

Think of how happy we’d be,
he said. No more murder
or theft or fear.
Think of the things we could do,
he mused, without worry of
how they’ll appear.

Life doesn’t work quite that way,
she said. Consider the
basics of earth.
Life must have balance or
cease, she mused. Without
sadness there is no mirth.

Bad gives us choice, a decision,
she said. It gives us the
freedom to choose.
Bad gives us contrast and balance,
she mused. Without that, the
earth would collapse.

So bad is good?
the boy asked, resignation
accenting his voice.
So what do we do,
the boy mused to himself.
How do we keep ourselves sane?

Look at the sky and clouds,
she said. Keep an eye
on what’s healthy and good.
Look inward and choose to
be good, she mused. Be the
balance to “bad” everyday.

Monday, 4/24: Nesting Crows

Through the nearly naked branches
they flit and wobble and jump.
Little black revelers on a hunting party
for the perfect, breakable twig.

They laugh and flap and carry on,
flying off now and again.
One perfect stick is all three of them need
to celebrate a suitable win.

Tuesday, 4/25: Eleven Things

I see you standing there
judging me silently.
What is it this time?
My lack of forced smile,
my bare face,
my disregard for titles and accomplishments?

Maybe it’s my tattoos, but
that seems so cliche.
My non-designer clothes,
my metal-filled ears?
Or just my
general distain for the endless small-talk loop.

I laugh too loud,
or not enough,
snicker at all the
wrong things but
I just take
everything far too serious, too literal, too thoughtful.

I know where I
fall short, why I
don’t fit in, how I
could change.
But I am who I am. Like who I am. Just gotta be me.

Wednesday, 4/26: Tick-Tock

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
I stare, and type, and stare some more.
Backspace is a fickle friend.

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
I rush to get ready for work and more.
Showers are a friendly devil.

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
I work and think and work some more.
Money is a devilish master.

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
I always end up racing the clock.
Perhaps I should stop.

Thursday, 4/27: Relief

Days like this I
long to be
up on a mountain,
under the trees.

Perched atop a
bold old rock,
watching a meadow,
maybe a fox.

Smelling the earth,
feeling the breeze,
hearing the waterfall
just through the leaves.

It’s peaceful here,
though nature is loud.
My soul finds peace in
the absence of crowds.

When darkness falls
and stars shine bright,
I’ll lay in the meadow
and drink in the night.

Friday, 4/28: Red & The Wolf

You’re a good granddaughter, going out
in the cool evening air,
basket of fresh baked breads in hand,
maybe a pie or two.

Your red cloak is bright against brown
bark, a beacon
of aid as you travel the well worn path
under the forest trees.

It’s quieter tonight — no birdsong
or insect buzzing.
The hair on your arms rises, the beat of
your heart quickens.

You drop your basket at the sight of
claw marks on the door.
You rush inside, a red streak that
matches grandmother’s blood.

He growls low, the wolf you thought
beautiful in the forest.
He waits half-under the flowery nightgown your
mother made, torn and stained.

It’s too late to run, you know. You
close your eyes
as he moves near, rotten, copper-tinged breath
hot on your face.

Your red cloak flutters to the floor,
shredded
as the huntsman approaches.
Is there life after death for you?

Saturday, 4/29: Through a Dog’s Eye

Sittin’ in the backyard,
squirrel up a pine tree,
being really quiet so
the little dude don’t see me.

Chompin’ on some tall grass,
actin’ all casual.
Sneakin’ in the garden ‘cause
it’s no place for an animal.

Maybe we’ll go walkin’ later
but I’m kinda lazy so…
might pretend to go along
and dig my heels in half-way home.

Layin’ on the patio,
see a kitty-cat go by.
Gotta chase him outta here,
kiss that furry tail goodbye!

Sittin’ in the backyard,
squirrel up a pine tree…

Sunday, 4/30: Poem 30

One month of poems,
thirty days in all,
a challenge,
a dare,
a siren’s grave call.

Poems about feathers,
of silence and noise,
of nature
and nurture,
of sorrows and joys.

A change in perspective,
new focus each day,
more words,
new skills,
better habits for May.

The poetry challenge
is done now, it’s true,
pen down,
notebook closed,
‘til once more it calls you.

*****************************************************

Did you write any poetry this month? Better yet – did you read any?

Priorities & Forced Balance

Last week wasn’t nearly as bad as the week before in general, which is kind of odd since work was decidedly difficult. The difference is, I dealt with it much better, and while I didn’t stay caught up all the time, I did prioritize a lot better. It’s amazing how much just setting solid priorities can alleviate so much stress – and allow us to get more done than we might otherwise.

The poetry challenge was especially “challenging” this past week, but I managed to end Saturday caught up for the week (I’m behind a poem again as of right now, but I’ll catch up tonight). Poetry is all about “flow” and ironically, fitting it into my schedule has been exactly that. Looking for the proper flow, so I can slot it into each day at some point.

I think I mentioned that I was trying to use some of my nightly knitting/crochet/TV time to catch some of the overflow, and my body told me very quickly that it was just not going to happen. My eyes went downhill again, my brain refused to work, and pretty much every night sitting there with the computer on my lap, I eventually just gave up and shut it while I finished my hour-long TV show.

Incidentally, we’ve been watching Iron Fist and Wynonna Earp on Netflix. Iron Fist is entertaining, but I highly, highly recommend Wynonna Earp. So, so good!

In any case, that hour is very necessary down-time, and my body & brain were quick to correct me when I tried to use it for work. So…it would appear that time is just as sacrosanct as my writing time. This week, I’ll get the knitting back out while watching TV.

My neck is healing, but very slowly, and I’m kind of to the point where it feels like it just needs gentle stretching and then to build up the muscle around that nerve to protect it from being pinched again. I have to be careful, as it still won’t really “work” at several angles, but I’ve started doing light weight training in my shoulders/arms again. We’ll see how that goes, but hopefully it will be helpful. Stupid neck.

In any case, my writing output increased again last week, and no matter how much this poetry thing stresses me out, I am *loving* what it’s doing as far as just getting me back in the daily writing habit. That right there was worth the cost of the workshop (though I’m obviously learning so much more…).

And for those who have been following along weekly – yes, my taxes are done and will be in the mail on April 18th. I’m not efiling because I owe the feds money, and they can just wait for my check to get there, thank you very much. This coming Friday night, I’m adding some dedicated bookkeeping time to my weekly business hours.

I’ve been thinking lately of pulling a couple of shelved drafts out and reworking them for publication. The basic plot is sound enough, but they need revision/additions to work. I do believe that might be something to work on after poetry month is over. I’m excited at the prospect, and I hate revising with a passion. So there’s gotta be something there, right? We’ll see.

Serial story chapter coming Friday, and another week’s worth of poems Saturday. Stay tuned!

Poem-A-Day Challenge: Week 2 Poems

Our National Poetry Month challenge continues…don’t forget to check out Carol’s poems too!

This week, I tried to be more descriptive. Description is my personal writing “unicorn”, if you will. I’m not good at it for several reasons I’ll discuss once I figure out how to do so, but in the meantime, I’m working on it. These are definitely more descriptive, but some of them are still pretty rough around the edges. Not too bad though, methinks…


Saturday, 4/8: Spring Fever (also featured on the BSB blog – a prompt story)

Thick strappy leaves wave merrily
propelled by warm fuzzy bodies
under bright spring sunshine.

Happy tails move this way and that
sending the occasional loose petal
flying free of its cup-like structure.

Red and yellow dominate the field.
A pleasant breeze ruffles ear-fur and
delights busy noses that sniff and seek.

Is there anything happier than soft
wigglebutts and bright fresh blossoms
on a warm spring day?

Sunday, 4/9: Bookkeeping (because…taxes)

What have I done?
Slacked off here, left off there,
shirked responsibility.

Need to fix this,
but there’s so much to do.
Just want to chuck it all.

Promises, every year,
to do better than the last.
Never happens.

Maybe next year.

Monday, 4/10: Morning Noise

It’s so loud —
the six am meeting of the
finely feathered & famished.

Like old friends,
they greet each other with
soulful salutations & song.

The sun rises
and the joyous treetop choir
summons the sleeping to stir.

But…it’s so loud!

Tuesday, 4/11: Lost It

It’s gone.
I don’t know where or how or when,
but it was here, and now it’s not.
I can’t believe I lost it.

I seek.
At home, at work, the car, the bed,
it simply vanished, so it seems.
I don’t know what to do.

I pine.
It was so lovely, useful, perfect.
Not sure what I’ll do without it.
But I must move on.

I buy.
It will be shiny, new, and updated.
This one as perfect as the last.
Maybe even better.

Wednesday 4/12: The Dentist (because…fillings)

It starts with a “pinch”
to numb out the pain.
A brief, quiet wait
until no feeling remains.

The man in white comes
blue mask and gloves donned.
I try to relax,
put my best game-face on.

The drill starts to whine,
burnt enamel fills my nose,
my fingers clench tight,
water & suction whoosh through a hose.

Above me four eyes,
quarters are tight,
gloved fingers, small tools
and that big too-bright light.

My tongue tries to hide
from the chemical tastes,
and the bite of a tool
weilded in haste.

All eventually ends
and my head spins to adjust
when they tip the chair upright
and wipe off the dust.

A necessary evil
this nightmare routine
but it happens less often
with good dental hygiene!

Thursday, 4/13: Daydreams

A wisp of wind swirls through newly born leaves,
green grass swishes softly in a warm summer breeze.

Air fresh and sweet caresses her skin,
she closes her eyes as the daydreams begin.

The hammock sways gently ‘tween two big birch trees,
the afternoon’s quiet save the low hum of bees.

Restless, she shifts, dreams of her paramour.
Does he dream of her too, the one she longs for?

Her heartbeat is loud, her adrenaline flows,
the mere thought of his touch makes her tingle and glow.

It’s all in her head, a fairy-tale ode,
another time, another life, another untaken road.

She opens her eyes, watches shadows diffuse,
waits for the stars to wish for her muse.

Friday, 4/14: A Bad Day

The alarm was off and so was I,
that long and fateful day.
It’s been awhile, so I can scoff,
but things were really gray.

Late to wake and late to work,
nary a sunshiny ray.
A server was down, tempers were up,
and many a nerve set to fray.

Car broke down and dog got sick,
the money drained away.
Dinner was burnt, rain came down,
and left no chance to play.

TV was awful and so was the news,
all touting political sway.
Too fried to write, to tired to read,
but sleep was respite from the grey.


Thanks for reading…feel free to share your own poems below. And stop back next Saturday for another week’s worth of poetry!

A Really Good Day & Retirement Goals

I had some vacation time to either use or lose by the end of the month, so last Friday I played hooky from work. It was a fun and productive day, and I found myself wishing I could have more days like that, which is pretty odd for me with vacation days (I often end up wasting them).

I went to the archery range first, and…well, I didn’t do so well with the targets *and* ended up making my shoulder sore, which means my form was way, way off. I’m blaming it on the fact that it was morning, and I don’t generally do much of anything well in the mornings (aside from sleeping, anyway). It was still a lot of fun though, and nice not to have to worry too much about what time it was. In fact, I didn’t put my watch on once last Friday.

After that, I hit the tattoo shop (Ghosts of Grace Tattoo Collective), and while my tattoo artist wasn’t in yet, the new piercer was. I ordered some expensive but really high quality titanium bars for my industrial piercing (which will take four weeks to get in, so I’m glad I got them ordered now), which I’ve been wanting to do for awhile (I have rather small ears, so the shorter bars I need are hard to find online or off). Once those come in, Nicole can custom color them for me, which will be great fun, and I can get some matching sets of bars/hoops/curved bars for my various gauged piercings.

While I waited for Andrew to get in, I ran over to the grocery store to buy some frozen cut green beans for the dogs (I use them as treats, and we were out). It amused me to just buy the one bag of frozen veggies with cash. Apparently people don’t do that often, because the cashier looked at me a little strange. She could have asked, and I would have solved the mystery for her, but she didn’t, so she’ll just have to wonder…

Then back to the tattoo shop (we’re talking maybe three blocks away here, so not a long trip) to chat with Andrew and schedule my next session for late April. A reward for getting my taxes done (not that we ever get any money back to spend – we break even most years). He seemed excited to continue working up on my sort of Victorian skull cameo/lace arm, and I’m really excited to see what he comes up with for the upper half. It’s odd to think that in a few months, I’ll have a full tattoo sleeve (two to three more sessions). It’s an odd thing, to look at a blank piece of skin and know that soon, it will bear a piece of permanent artwork and will never be truly “bare” again. I absolutely want it, but it’s still sort of an odd thing to really wrap your brain around.

After that, I headed home, had lunch with my husband and walked the dogs. And then while the dogs napped, I sat down with my laptop in our nice quiet house (construction down the street notwithstanding), and worked on a short story until it was time to feed the dogs and make dinner. I really enjoyed writing that story. I was in the zone, and it was flowing, and while it needs some clean-up work, I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. You can read the draft version (under  one of my pseudonyms) on the BSB blog, if you’d like.

It was a really good day.

This is something like what I imagine retirement to be like. Wake up slow, maybe run some errands (or work on some household stuff), have lunch, get out and walk the dogs, and then sit and write for a few hours before dinner. Glorious!

When I was in high school, I always wanted to be in college, and I took a lot of time for granted. When I got to college, I just wanted to get out because I was working three, sometimes four jobs to pay my way through and taking several classes every semester. I barely slept, ate on the run, and could not *wait* to have a normal, 9-5 job where I could just go home in the evenings and crash.

Now I have my 9-6 job, I have my evenings for dinner, hobbies, working out and even a little writing, but I’m greedy. I want more time to be “mine” again. And that won’t happen until I’ve paid my dues and finally reach the golden age of retirement.

It’s good to have long-term goals, don’t you think?

Until then, I’ll try to have as many of these “really good days” as possible. I mean, I like my job, don’t get me wrong. But finally being able to set my own schedule is my “Eleanor” (or unicorn, if you prefer).

Hand in hand with that, I need to remember that while having a stockpile of vacation days is good, it’s kind of like collecting nice dishes and then only using them on special occasions. If you have something, you may as well use and enjoy it, rather than waiting for some special event or date.

More random vacation days, perhaps?

First Quarter Observations

Yes, this weekend I wrote & scheduled my first quarterly newsletter for BSB. I need to get my author newsletters going again too, but…babysteps. This year while I’ve been working to get back on track with the writing (with some success), I’ve also been working to get back on track with the business side of things. Stuff like updating the web site regularly, scheduling promotions, checking sales (my books actually sell better on iTunes than anywhere else – who knew? I do now!), keeping in touch with readers, posting writing samples on the site…and supposedly keeping my accounting up to date so I can get my taxes done (um…yeah. Babysteps, like I said.).

You know. Actually *running* the business, instead of just letting it limp along on its own until I need something from it. Novel (so to speak) idea, eh?

Time is an issue, as you’re aware, but the whole Friday late-night business hours thing is actually working really, really well. I kind of feel like Tim Ferriss (he’s the guy who wrote that 4-hour work week book, right?) would be proud. I start around 11pm, and work until around 3am, and that time is dedicated completely to taking care of business/BSB tasks. It’s not quite enough time, granted, because I still generally end up doing blog posts on Sunday night (just did that before hopping over here), and I don’t have a good workflow figured out yet, so I spend too much time deciding what to work on, instead of working. But that will come in time, and if I can eventually hook up with someone who’s marketing-graphics inclined, that will save me a bunch of time too (I currently make all of our marketing graphics – it’s very time-consuming). But…babysteps.

The cool thing is, stuff is getting done. Books are getting marketed (thanks to the marketing assistant working with me), updates are being done, things are moving forward.

And I’m writing regularly again too. Still need to work on priorities and time management, but Monday through Thursday nights, I am in my booth no later than 11pm, and working on a piece of fiction. I may get a few words in or a lot, but nearly always something. I will have at least one, and possibly two or three new books of my own to publish by the end of the year. That feels pretty darn good.

I’m also reading regularly again (at night, after I write and before sleep), and I’ve taken up archery (I did indeed buy a bow), and this past weekend we got a really good start at turning our backyard into a “lawn” again. It doesn’t sound like much, I know, but all of these things add up to good progress on the things that felt like they were just completely out of control and out of reach altogether just a few months ago (well, aside from the archery – that’s just a new hobby on a whim, but a good addition, methinks).

Things are good. Life is good. And I hope it will just keep the next curve ball to itself for a little while longer, because I’m really enjoying this little interlude from the conflict that tends to plague us all here and there.