I’m treating today’s blog post as a writing exercise, because I seem to be stuck in this place of editing hell where everything is crap and I hate all the words and my darn novel is dumb. Is that normal? I don’t know. Someone please weigh in in the comments section. To Andy and Juliette and my mom and everyone else who told me “Write a book, you can totally do it, it’ll be amazing!” … I am mad at all of you.
Also I’m trying really hard not to take the fact that my keyboard’s space key is mysteriously sticking as of late as some vast, meaningful sign from the universe to give up and stop writing forever.
Stupid space bar. Stupid writing. Stupid book. Harrumph harrumph harrumph.
Amber told me about this writing exercise she read in Anne Lamont’s book, where you write 300 words on any subject – it’s supposed to trick your brain into flowing creatively. I’m going to give it a shot and call it a blog post. And the topic of the day shall be: my fascinating, hopefully-creativity-unlocking weekend activities.
Friday was Halloween and though he won’t admit it, Andy was really excited to give out candy to trick-or-treaters. I got a bit over-zealous myself, and quickly learned that giving out heaping handfuls of candy was a great way to not make it through the night. So I cooled it and started an even distribution of three pieces per kid. Except the little girl who told me I was pretty; she got way more.
I woke up suddenly in the night when Fancy jumped on my face. It took me a minute to get my bearings, seeing as it was 4am, but I quickly realized that something wasn’t quite right…and our house smelled like fire. Like I do in any crisis situation, I took a deep breath and remained calm panicked and woke Andy up, yelling “OUR HOUSE SMELLS LIKE FIRE, OUR HOUSE MIGHT BE BURNING DOWN OMG OMG OMG.” Bolted is not an accurate enough word to describe the way he leapt from the bed in the 4am darkness. No one panic (come on, who here is panicking anyway? Oh right. Me.), in the end there was no fire. It was just the fact that Texas had its first cold night of the season, and our house’s heater turned on for the first time since February. Apparently that can cause a burning-like smell and it is, in fact, normal. Oops.
Saturday I meant to edit. I really, really did. But then…please see abovementioned self-loathing and writer’s block. So Andy and I went out for pho instead. And ice cream. And we watched TV and laid around and didn’t do anything because that’s what dreams are made of. It was delightful. Have I mentioned before how much I truly love not doing things?
Saturday night I cooked us a delicious dinner, which included these mouthwatering chive biscuits from Ina Garten’s very own recipe collection. I feel that it’s also important to note that I added about a cup of shredded sharp cheddar cheese to the recipe and HOLY DELICIOUS. It should be a crime for something to be that tasty. Maybe I’ll do a recipe post on it soon. You know, as another “writing exercise.”
I could talk to you guys all day. Can I just do that? Can that be my job? Who needs books anyway?
Sunday was going to be incredible, except yours truly woke up with a baby migraine. Yes, that is the official medical term, I’m almost positive. Definitely not the worst I’ve ever had, but damn. That shiz was cray. Not a good time AT ALL. It knocked me on my butt from 5am until well after lunchtime, when I managed to pull myself together and buy us some groceries so we wouldn’t starve this week. Related: it’s now officially Christmas at Walmart and that excites me tremendously. Like, full on italicizing level of excited.
Andy’s sweet parents called and asked us to meet them for dinner at this little restaurant that is apparently known in DFW for its chili, and y’all. If there is anything in this world that I love more than Christmastime at Walmart and unlimited wine, it’s chili. I won our company’s chili cook-off last year, and I’ve been known to make a 12-serving batch for myself alone. Chili? Gimme dat.
I need to share my excitement because tomorrow night Natalie is coming over for at-home happy hour. It’s like happy hour at a restaurant, except you can have fast food tacos and the wine never has to end. And we can watch whatever trashy reality TV we want. Basically it’s going to be the best night of my life.
And now I’m at 807 words and while I’m not sure I’m feeling significantly more creative in the book-editing sense, I think that’s definitely more than enough to call a blog post. Is anyone still reading? You deserve a prize. You can come to Natalie’s and my at-home happy hour. I’ll even buy you an 89-cent taco. You’re welcome.
Before I go, if anyone wants to send words of affirmation/good vibes/prayers/extravagant gifts/cash to further encourage my writing, please do so in the comments section. If you’re sending money, I’m on PayPal.
Peace, love and tacos for everyone.
—The Wife in Training
P.S. – 908 words total.
P.P.S. – Why isn’t editing my book this easy?!