It usually does, of course, but I’m focused on specific vacuum-like attributes this morning.
Two nights ago, I was finally enlightened as to the funeral program for my recently-deceased grandmother. I’ve been saddened about her passing, to say the least, and now feel somewhat like I’ve been punched by a random, vindictive leprechaun as I walked innocently down the street.
A certain relation of mine took over the funeral plans. I realize I’m a grandchild. Though, really, that’s only in name. A few legal and medical sources confirm I am hardly classified as a child anymore.
After typing up a rather satisfying, flaming, angry writing vomit session; I still feel upset. At least I didn’t actually publish it though, so we’re making progress.
To top the icing on the cake of the day that had already been filled with “normal” Mom Life stresses, I learned that my writing entry to a contest had not made it past the first cut.
Now, I’m never over-confident about my skills. I’m very good at self-deprecation and an extreme sort of humility and poor self-esteem and whatnot. What really got my yoga exercise pants in a twist was reading through the snippets that did make the final cut. I don’t mind losing (much), if the winners are worth losing to.
I like to think I’m collecting data on what might make my story accepted the next time I enter when I bitterly read through the competition. However, in this case I’m left scratching my head. In fact, this is the third time I’ve submitted to this blogger, so it’s more like I’m smacking my head with the keyboard.
What can I do differently? Suck more?
This is the part where we remind the audience that I’ve been trying to be a good little girl and eat healthy and exercise. So, I haven’t had fall-back options like binge-eating Valentine’s chocolate and staying up all night staring blankly at a computer screen as I type angry words about a certain in-law and a certain contest.
Chocolate was 70% off at Walgreen’s. It’s not like I overspent, at least.