Reeling

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By Rod Waddington from Kergunyah, Australia (White Rhino, Uganda) via Wikimedia Commons

R should be one of the easiest letters on this journey from A to Z. It’s got all the possibilities of a P; all the nuance of an N; all the all of an A. But I had trouble.

Too many choices. In fact, I’m reeling from them (ahh). My fingers wanted to type “realing” from them.

Realing. Another new word my friend who shall remain nameless (Breaker of Things. Wait, I don’t think I did that right), will tell me has already been somehow released into the ether even though I’m the maker-upper of everything. Realing. Verb. Present participle. The act of making something real.

Now I want to change my title. Realing feels so much more stable, more grounded, more together than reeling.

And now you see how we got here.

I’ve always been one of those people who want to know all the outcomes before I start, who wants to make the best possible choice at all possible times (see: post about OK.) And even now, when you know and I know I’m going to chatter on about some nonsense for the length of a post, I feel compelled to make it the best possible nonsense.

Hmm. Yes, you’re right, hypothetical reader. I can see how that sounds.

It is, to throw in another r-word, ridiculous.

Especially when I set out originally to write about reality, which is probably how realing came about. Oh well. Let’s get realing.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

 

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Quoffee

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This is a quoll, a carnivorous marsupial from Australia. It’s also a great Scrabble word. By Ways from Wikimedia Commons

Hmm? What’s that, hypothetical reader? Quoffee is not a word?

Why I beg to differ. Quoffee is a perfectly acceptable word. Me making it up doesn’t make it less of a word. It only hasn’t caught on yet. Because I made it up about four minutes ago.

Speak up, hypothetical reader, I didn’t hear that. What does it mean?

Well thank you for asking. You always know exactly the right thing to ask at the right time, hypothetical reader.

It’s uncanny.

Quoffee is, of course, the quest for coffee. Why be forced to describe this (nearly) universal need in two words when you can, at your darkest hour, use but one? Quoffee.

Yesterday I told you how I accidentally got chocolate-donut-flavored coffee instead of coffee humans actually want to drink. It wasn’t awful yesterday because only half of it had the artificial flavoring, but today I had to do a full cup of this concept catastrophe.

Maybe it would have proven drinkable if I’d added enough cream and sugar to believe I was eating an actual chocolate donut, but really I’d rather just have the donut.

So I looked in the fridge where I store my coffee and coffee-based experiments, and lo and behold there was a bag I’d tried, didn’t love, and saved for emergencies. A while ago.

In the calculus of the quoffee, almost-stale beats fake flavoring that crawls inside of your brain and takes up residence. Every time.

Almost-stale it was.

I’m on my second cup because apparently the caffeine also degrades. Sigh. So the quoffee lives on unto eternity.

Or, you know, until I go buy a fresh bag. Whichever.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

 

Priorities

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So far today, aside from the bare minimum of crawling out of bed, brushing my teeth and getting dressed, I have: done some yoga; made some phone calls, including to a friend to wish her happy birthday (Happy Birthday, Lady, in case you see this); made breakfast while simultaneously discovering first with horror, then with a not-so-bad shrug that I bought chocolate-flavored coffee rather than coffee-flavored coffee; taken out the trash; paid some bills and other fun and assorted bits required to maintain the status quo. I have not, however, until this instant moment in which we find ourselves, written my blog post. Or anything else, for that matter.

Priorities.

They’re funny, funny things. They’re shape-shifters. They morph and grow and jostle for position, and sometimes they give themselves more weight, more heft, than we do.

That’s another P word. Procrastination.

Which can go away because we’re not talking to it today. That’s right. We can talk about procrastination later.

I’ve come to believe that 90% of writing is placing yourself in front of your mechanism and winning the staring contest with the blinking cursor, which still seems to win an unsettling amount of the time, given that it’s blinking. You’ve got to sit down.

And we’re back at priorities. They can come from inside. They can be external, like the garbage can that has reached its limit and inconveniently does not come equipped with a self-emptying function even if it is the 21st century. Wherever they come from, whatever they may be, you have to leave room for the priorities that really matter to you.

Because those are the ones we tend to let slide.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

 

OK

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[CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

I really didn’t want to do OK for O. I wanted something lofty, like “open,” or “opportunity” “ornithological.” Get it? Lofty? Because birds? They fly?

OK, you’re right, crash and burn. Not that birds burn when they crash.

Ugh.

OK, back on track. Which is why it’s OK today.

I often (huh, another O word lurking right there in the open) find myself saying “OK” to myself, sometimes aloud, sometimes inside this cavernous head-space of mine. For me it can be a segue, a shortcut for “time to get on with it.” Settle in and settle down.

OK.

Of course (oh the philosophizing I could have done with “of.” And “oh.” Oh O), that’s not all there is to OK. OK can be reassurance; OK can be mediocre. OK can be simply OK.

We so often want more than OK, better than OK, more exciting than OK, more perfect than OK. For some of us, and I’m not naming any names but one can probably be found at the upper left of this blog, learning to live with OK is a process. For that person who shall remain nameless, yoga is so helpful in this endeavor. There’s no perfection in yoga; you shake, you wobble, you try and trying is all you need to do.

First drafts are never more than OK. And that’s OK.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

 

Maybe

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So I considered writing about MAYkingItWork, the challenge I came up with last year for May, where we take something in progress that has stalled and we, well, make it work. But the truth is lining up another challenge right after this one seems like a little…much.

Maybe.

Maybe is around a lot these days. Maybe, maybe maybe. Do you feel that too?

Side note: as you probably know unless you’re new (hi new people!) I write my posts on the fly on the day of the letter. Well today some work in my building necessitated my getting the heck out of Dodge* (*Not the actual place where I live) at the crack of dawn. And where do you go under such circumstances?

Your parents’, when available.

So for the first third of this post, they were yelling back and forth to one another from the kitchen to dining room about the latest news about Michael Cohen. My mother said, incredulously, “TAXI MEDALLIONS?!” and my hopes for getting a sensical post posted kinda evaporated.

Which I think is both funnier and more interesting than “Maybe,” so we’ll end M with a morph to medallions and the unlikely people who hold them.

Have a great day off tomorrow!

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

Losing

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By freestock.ca [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D, from Wikimedia Commons

Well, friends, I’m losing the A to Z Challenge. Even though it’s not that kind of challenge. But if it was, I’d be WAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY in the rear, gasping and taking the last half-filled cup of Gatorade off the table, even though we’re only at mile 12.

Also I just realized how fitting a metaphor marathons are for this challenge. Twenty-six letters of the alphabet; 26.2 miles in a marathon…now I find myself doubting that knowledge. Yep, I was right, but in the Google era, never sure.

Hmm.

I got a cramp, which in the case of A to Z, was a brain-cramp, and I haven’t been able to shake the headache all week. Though I’ve managed twitter, digesting lovely, thoughtful posts greater than 250 characters and commenting intelligibly on them has been too much. While it’s not gone completely, hopefully today I can get back into the swing of visiting, and I really apologize to everyone who is so kind to come read my nonsense when I haven’t been coming around.

I have stories to catch up on, vicarious travel to embark, characters to meet and lots of waving hi to do. So I’m probably going to need some coffee while I’m at it.

What?

It’s good for the headache.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

Juggling

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This bizarre little rodent, who looks like he’s juggling multiple species, is called a jerboa. By Elias Neideck [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D, from Wikimedia Commons

When I was a kid I decided I wanted to learn to juggle. I bought a kit and tried for a while but soon lost interest. Maybe it was my lack of coordination; it’s possible I’ve tripped over flat ground, though I have my suspicions about tiny little pranksters with the ability to raise and lower concrete.

But I digress.

As an adult I’ve discovered juggling is a vital skill, but not in the literal sense. In the literal sense it’s the fun trick people who are not me pull out at parties.

And we’re off track again.

Sometimes it’s impossible to keep all your objects of juggling–be they balls, pins or chainsaws–merrily dancing through the air, no matter how you keep your hands moving and your eyes on them. That was me yesterday with a roaring headache and the inability to wander away from my blog to go visit. Sorry, fellow A to Zers, I’m going to try to catch up, but the problem with putting the chainsaws down for even a moment (or a day, whatevs) is that you have to get them all back in the air again.

Fun times.

I really should have made it through that whole juggling book.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

Institution

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As in Aunty Ida’s mental one. It’s full-service, in case you’re wondering. Who wants a mental institution that isn’t full-service?

No one, that’s who.

Aunty Ida is a character, and I mean that in both senses of the word. Allegedly, she’s fictional, but part of me believes that out there, beyond the skin of this universe and well into the densely-packed parts of the next, she’s sending me detailed descriptions of her shenanigans with one of her improbable inventions.

It’s more logical than me just making her up.

Eh, go meet her, you’ll see what I mean. Just, um, you know, be careful with your brain since she probably won’t be, and we are no longer carrying spare brain parts.

 

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

 

Hedonistic

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What does a Hercules Beetle have to do with hedonism? Haven’t the foggiest. No wait, it’s nature indulging its own hedonism…I mean look at it! Muséum de Toulouse [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)%5D, from Wikimedia Commons

This morning I had cottage cheese (Good Culture cottage cheese, it’s utterly amazing. All real food ingredients, and it tastes like it) with a bit of a bright strawberry jam and some fruit. And then I decided I wanted a piece of toast as well. With the chocolate chip cookie peanut butter.

Hedonistic.

Remarkably the peanut butter is healthier than it sounds, but it tastes like you’re cheating on adulthood. Heavenly.

Which is another H word I didn’t consider but here we are eighty words in so I’m committed.

There are those things we tend to deny ourselves because we “shouldn’t.” Not because they’re objectively bad or harmful to ourselves or others, but because we build up these matrices in our heads: the allowed; the forbidden; the OK sometimes; the OK but make sure you feel bad about it.

But here’s the thing. We’re living in a world where Armageddon doesn’t seem impossible, where it feels real and close and some days, inevitable. Is there really room in the universe for “OK but make sure you feel bad about it?”

I don’t think so.

Build a little hedonism into your life. Not the kind that can destroy it or you, just the kind that gives you permission to enjoy things without the trip to the guilt gallows. Like chocolate chip cookie peanut butter.

You’ll have to excuse me now, I have some hedonistic toast to demolish.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

Groggy

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A Galapagos tortoise. I’m so groggy I didn’t even think to write about my trip to the Galapagos for G. I think he looks just as groggy.

The only possible word for me today. Groggy. Nope, not hung over, unless one can be hung over on all-you-can-eat sushi, which, in that case then, yes.

I went to bed late and woke up at a time I decided wasn’t anywhere near appropriate and fell back asleep. And when I woke up again, my clock said 1-0-colon-0-0.

What?

I checked all available purveyors of time. Yep. 10:00. TEN AM. With vague memories of Brad Pitt in my dreams (Brad Pitt?! Why Brad Pitt? Definitely not my cup of Hollywood Celebrity. I’m more of a Nathan Fillion/Mario van Peebles/Eric Balfour/Brad James/Men Who Appear to Enjoy the Sci-Fi in which They Appear kinda gal) I leapt out of bed, but much more slowly than that and yes, spell check, I do mean the past participle of “leap.”

Ah, see? That’s the coffee kicking in. I do have some brain cells up there after all.

So I’m slogging through the day thus far, a day, according to the time, which is now past noon. Past noon. Past NOON.

Hopefully the grogginess will dissipate, leaving me bright-eyed and refreshed.

Yeah, I don’t think so either.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.