I worked yesterday which is great. It’s great because I hardly worked at all in September due to being sick and was feeling that maybe I just couldn’t work anymore- like I don’t have the physical strength or endurance or stamina. I mean I’m still not fully recovered apparently and have been dealing with doctors WAY too much. So the very thought of not being able to work is scary as all hell to me.
I don’t do well as a couch potato.
So I was glad that I showed myself I could do it. It’s been a real source of angst for me these last couple of weeks. I mean a man has to be able to support him(her)self, right? So even though I only worked a few hours it did a lot for me and I feel a real sense of relief. September saw some major rationing of resources due to the lost work on top of having medical and car and other expenses that were unavoidable. So I made it through September and am on some solid ground at the moment.
At the moment.
It’s a struggle for existence sometimes and right now I’m optimistic. I mean one has to be right? It’s funny how no matter what happens optimism rears its head over and over. At least for me it does and I appreciate that. Even though a part of me is always waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the shit to hit the fan. For things to go south. Or as some say for life to go all cattywampus.
Who says that?
So it’s good and it’s Sunday which is always a nice day. I’m drinking my coffee which I usually do when I talk to you (yeh you), and it’s strong and it’s tasty and it’s right. I was lying in bed just a few minutes ago, thinking about how good coffee smells, which motivated me to put my feet on the floor. I mean is there anything better in this world than the aroma of freshly brewed coffee? Well I’m sure there is but right now it’s the BEST! It’s 4:50AM and I just woke up. That’s late for me so I feel like the day’s slipping away.
Well not really.
But I’m ready to get rolling here. Yesterday I had an “issue” that pissed me off, with a publisher who’s putting together my first poetry book. I hate to say I have low expectations and still have reservations, but I do-for reasons there’s no need to get into right now. That aside, the specific “pissed off” situation was seeing a proof of the book and all my punctuation pulled out of my poems. The nerve! Well I understand being edited and don’t really have a problem with that, but my poetry is definitely “non-traditional” and the punctuation is there for a reason. I have a tendency to be a bit “sing-song” and without the punctuation to me it comes off flat. I mean a question is a question and needs a question mark, right?
It’s not like I’m one of those exclamation point happy people.
Or am I? No I’m not (I swear!). If it’s there it’s intended and deliberate. Instead of telling the publisher to just FORGET THE WHOLE THING, which to be honest was my initial and childish reaction, I replied with a “do what you have to do” and an attitude. I mean I want the book done even though I may not show anyone now or even look at it myself. I do feel it’s compromised my work. I had all kinds of thoughts about this situation affecting my writing moving forward, but it won’t. I’ll never be anything but authentic. And honest. And unconventional. And rough around the edges. Those looking for a downside may say (and have said) defensive.
Well that’s neither here nor there nor anywhere, right?
Speaking of which, we just passed the anniversary of the passing of the great Theodor Seuss Geisel, a.k.a. Dr. Seuss, who died in 1991. Funny at this stage of life I have a thing for him. And I do. I’ve come to have a real affinity for the very sound and meaning of words, especially new ones you don’t hear much (new for me). I’ve also become a shameless rhymer. It’s an indulgence and dare I say fetish which I’m going with. So yes I’m bantering, babbling and blubbering. I’m driveling, jabbering and flapping my jaw. I’m spewing hogwash and bumbling and running my mouth. And it’s because I want to. And I can. So bless your heart and kiss my swingers! Isn’t it good and healthy that I don’t care if anyone reads me? If you’re at this spot with me right now: THANKS- I hope you’re having a good time. But will I apologize? HELL NO! At the moment I’m chalkin’ it up to the caffeine combined with my insatiable lust, which is not an excuse. I don’t need one. I’m not self-conscious about what I do. This is who I am.
All hail Seuss!
Someone told me a while ago that “Pete, you know you’re the only one who thinks you’re funny, right?”. I was wounded at the time but now I have no problem with it. I’m not trying to impress anyone, I’m just being myself- take it or leave it. I like a chuckle. It sure the hell is better than being morose, no? It’s really nice to be silly here, as I’ve been “oh so serious” lately. I need to lighten the hell up.