I woke up this morning and realized that humor is “working for me.” With my new mind set being “trying to find what is helpful” in my life, I find it interesting that I am learning about my writing abilities.
I am thinking about how I am going to put into words horrible images of pain from my past, while at the same time I am laughing inside at all the insanity around me in my current life. The fact that I can’t wait to write about it, is telling me something.
Am I the next Erma Bombeck? Why can’t I just stick to what I’ve been doing well for the last thirty years, which is illustrating? The answer to that is easy; there has been no money. However, writing and song writing isn’t likely to be a moneymaker either.
Until I finish writing about Jason, this whole thing is a work in progress. But that’s what makes it so much fun for me, not knowing where it’s going.
I don’t care to be famous. When I’m in the market buying something that has my painting on it, I’ve said to the checker, “That’s my picture on that jar of Del Monte relish.” The smile she gives back makes me think I’m sharing too much information. (Just like now)
So this morning, I was able to think about how funny everything is that is happening in my world. My head was busy with:
How much longer can I delay shopping at Costco? Is it possible someday that we can invest in a third refrigerator?
Will my father still be worried about me, because I started crying and yelling at him last night? He bugged me while I was writing. I couldn’t stand the fact that he was asking me to take out all the phone books from a high up cupboard to organize them and add the new ones. I ended up yanking out ten phonebooks for the trash; I haven’t used one in years. When he whined that he still “needed me,” I lost it.
My mother is totally missing me. She needs her hearing aids cleaned, and my father is too tired to take them across the street to a store that would do that.
I need more help! Maybe if I had money, I could hire a second housekeeper again like I used to have. Sometimes I imagine all the money we could have if it wasn’t spent on hired help. During those periods where I was working so much, I had two people helping me seven days a week. Well some people have nice cars, so I have housekeepers. It’s far more important to me!
Below I am emailing with my college, illustration teacher. Through all these years, I’ve always enjoyed sharing my illustration success with her. This email exchange is due to my recent decision to share an original painting with her in honor of her birthday.
On Feb 23, 2010, Judy wrote:
Okay, I sent you a selection now – let me know which painting I can share with you!
Thanks!!!! Hmmmm, they’re all so good!! How about the walnuts?
Good choice! It will represent us both, ”Coming out of our shells, up against the wall, and trying not to go nuts!” I’ll send it soon.
Thank you Judy!
I can’t believe you are sharing that with me. I like your description of why it appropriate. Hahaha! However, I don’t know if I want to come out of my shell. Hahaha! Too risky…
I am sharing it with you, but don’t give me a grade on it. You can only come out of your shell when you are ready. It took fifty years for me. Another word for shell is “tough exterior.” You are one tough lady! That being said, the nutmeat is exquisite, sensitive, and tender – definitely worth sharing.
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