I’ve had a couple of revelations this past week. This is a result of more quiet time spent immersed in my crosswords (my addiction of choice–better than some others I can think of,) FreeCell, or TikTok and a new one (thanks so much to friend, Melinda) Wordle. I have an addictive personality, but it runs to vocabulary, grammar, spelling, etc.

Really, who says that?

A writer, that’s who.

But as usual, I digress. Quiet time coupled with less work and time alone (thanks, Omicron!) means more thinking. Thinking made me wonder why, if I am such a writer, I am not writing. After all I shut down my business September 1 and we finished the work mid-October–plenty of time to start the blog, work on the rewrite of my WIP (work-in-progress–a story for another day) or add some pages to any of the other story ideas I’ve been noodling. But nothing. Not a word on paper, not a letter. I haven’t even sat down in front of a blank screen. Why, why, why?

Which brings me back to my revelations.

Revelation No. 1

I only sold the parts of my business that I didn’t do. That was a big surprise!

Here I was thinking I was going to be retired, eating French onion dip while watching Hallmark movies (which, full disclosure, I have certainly done on occasion) but no, I have been working every business day since (except for holiday weeks.) Turns out I kept the websites, graphic work, and my main video production client–the same portfolio I had at the store. And until yesterday, I have been working on those parts of the business nearly every day.

I certainly didn’t see that coming.

“No, you cannot have French onion dip. You have to call GoDaddy.” That’s a tech support number, by the way, not my pimp.

Revelation No. 2

I was raised to eat my vegetables before I can have dessert. What, you’re asking, does that have to do with anything?

For me writing has been a reward, time spent away from the drudgeries of everyday life, something I did for the purest pleasure of stringing syllables together on paper, the joy of a perfectly chosen word, placed in a perfectly paced sentence, structured to create powerful emotional response whether it’s laughter, tears, tension, romance, you name it.

So, I would only write when the work was done, the dishes washed, the clothes folded, the children entertained, the husband occupied. When I had eaten my vegetables.

Most of my veggies are gone now, and I am left with a nearly empty plate.

SO NOW WHAT?

Well, here I am, butt in chair, fingers on the keys, typing this nonsense to share with you, realizing that I am a grown woman and I no longer have to eat veggies first. In fact yesterday I had ice cream in the middle of the afternoon! Yes, I’m a rebel, a maverick, cruising toward destruction. . .writing!

I am grateful to you for reading this far! And for your comments. So wonderful to hear such nice things from you. I hope you’ll keep coming back. And I hope to give you food for thought (no vegetables!)

I told a friend that my goal is to be the next Erma Bombeck–funny, wise, poignant, and relevant.

I really better hurry. I have a lot of catching up to do.