I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD SLAPS, SPEED BUMPS and LIGHTBULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.

Friday, September 9, 2016

Squeeze baby squeeze

So, what do you make with these things?
According to my horoscope, today is supposed to be, not only a banner day, but a day to begin an entire new positive and rewarding era. Life changing, they say, career changing, a time for all my blocks to be stacked exactly right and true.

All week I've been waiting for today.

This is MY day.

The horoscope experts say that a whole new twelve year cycle is being ushered in. Look back, they said, I did, to the last time this kind of gobbledygook took place and I remember. Yes, it was an amazing time back then, like winning the lotto without having to buy a ticket.

I'm waiting.

Am I in for success again?
Am I in for a another sweet ride?
I was up at 5am.

I'm still waiting.

It's god-awful muggy and hot. I'm tired from staying up late last night. My cloths smell like they sat in the washer too long before drying. I have to leave for work in a half hour to feed the whims of the entitled and arrogant American consumer. My feet hurt already.
It's 8:30 am, nothing yet.

I'm waiting.

When's the last time you were told you were going to have an amazing day?
Did it happen or are you still waiting?

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