The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From The Sh*tting Tree

As I make the move to take my relationship with writing from “dating ” to “engaged”, I have discovered insomnia has adopted the role of “Annoying Wedding Planner”.

Do all writers have insomnia? Until I changed my diet in 2012, I hadn’t slept since Junior High. But I was very happy to kiss my steady date with 3 am goodbye. Apparently 3 am missed me.

Of course, it IS quieter at 3:00 in the morning. The only interruption is when my cats decide my arms/hands/lap/head is the best place to sleep.

I used to look for signs when it came to my writing. Then the universe threw so many signs at me that I have a NY Times-style cartoon image in my head of me (and I’m always so much cuter in cartoons) under an avalanche of actual signs. I wasn’t ignoring, but I may have been procrastinating. So the universe decided I was too stupid for signs, and began having friends and strangers tell me (ALL THE TIME) that I should get serious about my writing.

So when I made the decision to “pop the question”, I stayed up that first night wondering what kind of laptop I was going to get, and where to put my desk, and whether I needed a new chair, and should I use a pen name, and did I need better glasses, and would I need to take some classes, and if I should find out where the word “blog” came from before I started one. I also wrote the shopping list, started the dishwasher, did two loads of laundry and contemplated rearranging the guest room… but old insomniac habits die hard.

In the nights that followed, stories came to me. Some were short, and I was able to type them up (at this point I’m doing everything on my iPhone. Yes. Everything), but some were longer, so I would write notes to remind myself the next day. But the problem was that often I couldn’t get to them the next day, and by the time I looked at my notes, the initial thought was lost.

Another problem is that “Annoying Wedding Planner” is on crack. I’m getting so many ideas at a time… and now my fear is, what happens if I actually think them through? It feels like they are firecrackers. They have all this potential, but if I light them now, they will explode and I won’t be able to make sense of the remnants later on. So now, I find myself deliberately NOT thinking ideas through when they come to me.

This, I realize, is dumb.

Today, Doofenshmirtz called to ask for help in finding a children’s book to read for a job interview. We decided that “The Giving Tree” was the perfect choice, but she needed it right then, and it was here at my house. So I decided to use technology to my advantage. I told her I would dictate the book into an email and send it to her. Talk-to-text. Easy-peasy!

As I turned on the microphone and began reading one of my favorite books, the idea struck me that THIS would be how I could get my stories down in the middle of the night. As I sat cross legged on the floor, reading one of my favorite books, and helping my daughter, I was also picturing my future! I was READY!

And then, before I sent the email, I glanced at it to make any last-minute edits, and pictured above is what I found. This was the most glaring mistake, but by FAR not the only one.

Before I let disappointment take over, I briefly considered writing a book titled “What My Phone Thought I Said”.

I may start my writing with a letter to Apple, gently suggesting they give their phones English lessons.

Just because a word is spelled right…

6 thoughts on “The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From The Sh*tting Tree

  1. Coffee everywhere like some bizarre cartoon water feature in Strangeworld. Thank you! Laughing may be good for the soul but not for the poor souls who now carry part of my latte with them (on them) now.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s