…battle of wills

When I’m gone, the battle over my journals may be which of my children will get the honor of burning them, but if this weren’t my legacy, just imagine what I could be spending my time creating? The hand-me-down curse could be boxes of knitted purple potholders.

To: piquecritique@time.out
My photos are back and what Kodak wants me to “say with pictures,”[1] is that I am an idiot who can’t figure out a flash, doesn’t know beans about composition and has a very photogenic thumb.
I can’t complicate things by gong digital. So I’m stuck writing all the nasty details. I like to think that it will take less space and I’ll still get a sort of maniacal spin off it.
…From the psycho in me and the guy at the one hour photo…T.

Like the unending torment of laundry, life’s absurdities pile up and each day, I look again at the pile and I once again attempt to sort them out. My goal is to separate life’s rare moments of lucidity from the inane and end up cleaned, pressed and ready to go. Sharing my hard-learned discoveries with others does seem to provide some center of peace in my tumultuous spin cycle. When I hang these absurdities out for public view, somehow I find they have become magically starched with optimism and my delusions can placidly continue.

To: queenbee@bug.out@queen.bee
As I write, television is sucking the life force from my children and I will pay dearly for these moments of peace.
Later, after an afternoon of television, I will be forced to listen to an enthusiastic overview of the miracle knife from my infomercial expert, while I put the kibosh on her sibling who is committing violent acts on the refrigerator.
It was nice when I could just ignore the older children as I do the youngest who is dancing around chanting, “Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now, gotta go, gotta go, gotta go.
Something or someone is burning, so reality intrudes again and I’ve really gotta go. T.

Reality Bite: They will spend the rest of today yelling, “Can You Hear Me Now?”

[1] I’ll bet Kodak’s ad campaign didn’t expect expletives.