They are showing Mississippi mud cake on GMA right now. It’s 8:49 in the morning, I just ate a big bowl of Cheerios and some yogurt, and I STILL want some.
Meanwhile, it’s Monday. You know how some weekends, you have tons of plans and social events, and only just catch your breath Sunday night, but on others, you do NOTHING, have no plans, and it’s just….nice? That was me this weekend. Lots of laying on the couch reading, laying on the couch watching TV, just laying on the couch. Maybe because all of this resting, I woke up on Sunday feeling incredibly industrious and decided to do some spring cleaning. This was a big deal, because I hate to clean. I am very good at surface cleaning: vacuuming, putting away dishes, dusting, stacking our magazines into neat piles. But pulling on the rubber gloves and getting excited about scrubbing some grout? Not my thing. My husband claims that not liking to clean is no excuse for not doing so, as nobody actually LIKES to clean, but I’m not so sure this is true. In fact, I have known personally people whose idea of heaven is taking everything out of the fridge and scrubbing it from top to bottom, who live to pull out their Swiffer. Don’t get me wrong: I love cleaning supplies, and often buy them on impulse at the grocery store, mostly because I’m convinced that maybe, that pretty bottle of Windex WILL inspire me to climb up and tackle the windows. There’s a big difference between planning to do windows, though, and doing them. I have plenty of aspirations, just not very good execution. Or, put another way, I’m kind of a slack ass.
Which is why, really, it’s so weird I’m a writer. I mean, here I am, kind of lazy in so many things, but when it comes to writing I am insanely disciplined. When I’m working on a book, I work every day, seven days a week. I am so organized—neurotically so, actually—-with my time, just so I can block out those few hours I need, that you could set your watch by me. When I’m writing a draft, I am thorough to the point of repeating myself, obsessing over ever little detail, determined always to leave nothing incomplete, no question unanswered. (This is also why my drafts are always SO long. Thank God for my editor!) But are my clothes folded neatly? My fridge tidy, each shelf scrubbed? Nope. I’ve often thought that if I could apply my writing discipline to the rest of my life, I’d been unstoppable. Or at least not have the reputation as “the messy one,” as I do now. But maybe, this just isn’t meant to be. Maybe, I’m able to be so organized with my work only BECAUSE I let so much else kind of, well, go. I mean, even people with the perfect fridge have a mess somewhere, right? At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
Speaking of writing, one last thing: I’m going to be speaking at West Regional Library, in Cary NC, this coming Saturday, the 21st. The event is at 2pm, and if you need info on the location, you can get it here. It’s been ages since I’ve done any appearances, so I’m just hoping that I remember how to, you know, speak in front of people. Fingers crossed!