Son called– only a week or so before fall classes start, he said he was headed south. He sounded a bit sheepish, perhaps because of all those tremulous calls self has been saddling him with, lately.
It’s all right, self wanted to tell him. If I was in your shoes, I’d head south, too.
The day was mild, crisp. Fall is here! Self catches glimpses of herself in the mirror and thinks: Wow, did you ever screw up. This new haircut of yours is 10x worse than the Prince Valiant cut of two weeks ago.
Self watched “Battlestar Galactica.” Hubby was annoyed at self’s lamentations of woe when Cally got sucked out of an airlock by evil Cylon assistant to President Roslin. OK, it was a re-play but when Cally started wacking Cylon/husband “Chief” in the face with a wrench, self started yelling, “That’s right! Wack him! Wack him!” At which point hubby became extremely — perturbed. He wanted to change the station to football. Self had no idea that her displays of emotionality were so unsettling. Imagine if he were married to Dearest Mum!
Hubby had to go to an office party. Bye-bye! Shortly after he left, self sat down at the dining room table, and looked at a play she hadn’t worked on in almost a year. Hey, self thought: This isn’t bad! She added some really crazy parts: a made-up poem in Chinese; a dialogue with a priest. After an hour she thought: Okey-dokey, better send this off before I lose my nerve. A couple of strokes of the keyboard and– done! Is self not a master of lightning decisions?
Writing is indeed a great — if not, her greatest — comfort.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.