Don’t like no short people… (go Randy Newman!)
Seriously– yesterday, the short people literally DROPPED into a coma, at around 2:00 pm. We actually STOOD THEM UP, to wake them up, and they just dissolved into sleeping puddles of short people…until arund 7:00, when they woke up, REALLY woke up, and ran around in circles until one in the morning.
This morning I was walking the tightrope of sleep-deprived reality in double time, and the sweetest thing that happened to me was the nap I got when Chicken got home. I told the tall food-suckers to mind the short people and slept for two hours. It’s the only way I got through our ‘Course Faire’ function tonight, but it doesn’t feel like it really took.
The really exciting thing about the ‘Course Faire’ is that I got to sign people up for the Creative Writing class… and I’m starting to feel some real enthusiasm about teaching it. Huzzah! Maybe I’m good at this… I seem to remember being good at this… wouldn’t it be wonderful if I was good at something?
I’ve actually started a list of shit that I don’t do well… it’s sort of daunting– want to see?
Politics
Chess
Dieting
Keeping track of the date
Doing simple math in my head
Cook
Clean
Drive
Park
Fix cars
Do word puzzles
Do jigsaw puzzles
Follow written directions or diagrams
Scrapbook
Take pictures
Computers
Compartmentalize my emotions
Calm down
Refuse to obsess about stuff
Rein in my children
Rein in my students
Remember to mark tardies
Shop
Spend money
Curb my yarn budget
Dress
Groom (you all should see my hair)
Garden
Punctuate sentences
Decorate
and I can’t go on–it’s just too depressing. I mean OI! Is it any wonder I’m psychotically insecure? What exactly do I have to be secure about? My stunning ability to write in the midst of the giant pile of crap on the kitchen table? Really–if there was award for that, I might have the self-esteem to make a diet stick!
But enough of that (MORE than enough I can hear you shout!) Let’s move on to fiber content. I’ve started my roulette sock, and I made it a little bigger, and now I’m spazzing out that it’s too big. I had NO idea how nerve wracking this would be if you suffer the ‘big-ass-feet’ malady–large ankles? Small ankles? Medium ankles and large feet? I’m at a loss. I’m just gonna hope the ankle isn’t too big, that’s all. I like the way the sock looks when it’s done (I’ve finished the first test sock) and now I can only hope the size takes care of itself.
And I heard something really disturbing while watching CSI tonight (because, you know, watching them pull maggots out of blood pools shaped like turtles isn’t disturbing enough.)
“They’re trophies,” said Lawrence Fishburne, referring to the many lovely objects d’art accrued by a con man. “Collecting is pathological behavior, whether you’re a rich man with art, or a serial killer.”
Or a knitter, surrounded by boxes of sock yarn. Yup. The things you can learn on C.S. I.!
And now this sleepy pathological insecure psycho is going to bed!
Naps! Aren’t they amazing?
I keep worrying that my roulette sock is too small…..
So, make a list of all the things you do well. I’ve never made a list of all the things I suck at, jumping out of a plane would be at the top but then, why would I want to jump out of a plane? It’s all in the perspective.
When your kids write their memoirs, and you know they will, you’ll learn all the things you did well.
Must be the weather. I have been making lists of all the things I I *used* to do well and wondering where all the excitement went. As long as you are having fun, don’t sweat the things you can’t do. After all, only you can be you.
I love the idea of the Lane brood writing their memoirs! Teehee
Oh, and Donna Lee, The Husband (former FAA) says, “Why would anyone want to jump out of a perfectly good plane?”
The sizing of a sock made for an unknown other person boggles my mind. I’m done except for the kitchener so it will have to be good.
I’m with Donna Lee on the list of things you do well. You have some amazing talents (not the least of which is managing to write in the midst of a busy household!)
You stood them up and they just collapsed down again? God I wish I could sleep that soundly! May you sleep just as soundly tonight!
Blessings on Chicken!
And hooray for Creative Writing!
I always say, if you can write well, you can fake any other skill.
Now. The way I make myself feel better when faced with the same type of list is to ask myself this question: How many of these things am I truly bad at? How many of them do I not give a shit about? How many have I not really TRIED at? (‘Cause I suck at economics, but I’m betting if I went to the trouble of really studying it, I’d be better. Like that.)
And you know, of course, people who are good at everything are annoying as hell and should be shot, anyway. You’re far more interesting for being bad at stuff.