Road Block?

So things are... hmm. Going.


At least this guy is keeping me going.

Just to put it all out there, I'm facing some tough times at work. I know, I hate talking about work here. Isn't that Blogging 101? Don't cross the streams? Total protonic reversal, and all that. I won't go into details. But the gist is, I may or may not have a job in a few weeks. And it's stressing me out. Big time. Like, if I run my hand through my hair I'll pull out a clump, kinda stress. Also I may have lost 40-50% of my eyelashes. Needs me some falsies STAT.

Everyone's all, 'Whatever happens happens,' 'It's out of your hands,' 'Don't get stressed about things you can't control.' And I'm all puking in the corner thinking about mortgage payments and college funds and career paths and commutes from hell. They mean well. And I'm not scoffing at those words of wisdom like "You don't know my LYFE!" They're totally right. But it doesn't change the fact that I feel like I'm spiraling down a hole, grasping at the sides with my fingernails.

This could be a totally awesome turn of events. I just have no idea. And I HATE not knowing what's going to happen next. Don't ever try to throw me a surprise party or I'll claw your eyes out. If not right at that moment, then in your nightmares. It's a promise. So basically yeah, surprises aint my thing.

With this potential road block/opportunity/who-the-hell-knows, I have hit a blogging wall. I'm having trouble digesting food, never mind thoughts and ideas into words that make sense to the web.

Every once in a while I'll get a blog entry ex machina (not even the right way to use that phrase, but I love it so suck it), like finding the ring. But mostly I've been opening a new entry to stare at a blank screen for a while. Then I go to People.com and Perez Hilton. And Pinterest to get lost for a few hours looking at pretty things. Did you know that the internet is full of distractions?!

As my thoughts are consumed with work worries, anything that requires an ounce of thought or creativity is eclipsed. I'm just going through the motions. Watching a million hours of Harry Potter. Doing laundry, dishes, anything to keep my hands occupied and my mind hushed.

It's like my falling hair is clogging the sink drain of inspiration. Deep, dude. That's so something I would have written on my notebook in high school.

The good news is that Des is on a major Mama kick. Just when I need it most. Despite the aforementioned anxieties, we ARE enjoying this beautiful summer.





He makes me laugh so much. And smile like it's plastered on my face.


Ridiculous joy. Worries magically gone.

I'll try to keep you posted, as much as I can. But don't blame me for being sparse. Blame The Man, man.

A Writer's Worst Nightmare

I'm writing for an online newspaper now. Have I mentioned that? It's a community-driven news source in which many towns have a segment, called Patch. They were looking for moms in my town to give parenting tips and share their personal experiences, putting a local spin on it. I include my own photos, so Desmond is pretty much the star. Tony also got a little cameo this week.

My column is published on Sundays. I clicked over to see the article on the front page this morning (eee!) and as I glanced at the tag line below the heading, I noticed something. Horror of horrors, a TYPO. And not just any typo, it was a stray word in the middle of a sentence that had no business being there. If it was a misspelling or grammatical error, I could almost forgive myself. But this caused the very first sentence, the intro that everyone will see before even clicking on the column, to make no sense at all.

If I had accidentally exposed a nipple on a Christmas card, I would have been less embarrassed.

Frantically, I emailed the editor requesting he make the change. But something tells me his priorities are less aligned with mine on a Sunday morning. It's been an hour with no response. I keep refreshing the site to see if maybe he made the edit without replying to my email.

Oh the shame. My only excuse is the house full of sick, non-sleeping people I'm living in. My mind just aint right. I'll be spending the rest of the day internally chastising myself in a dark room.

For all to see, here is the writer's equivalent of a nip-slip:
My column
Main site for our town

**Edited to add... The editor fixed my slip up. Although there is another minor grammar mistake further in, I should be able to sleep tonight.