Tag Archive | pet peeves

Murphy’s Law in Action

murphys_lawToday was one of those “Murphy” days. You know, what could go wrong, will go wrong. (See the sign?)

I spent the morning cutting grass and then attempted to trim the edges. I dragged out three extension cord and plugged them together, so I could reach around the front of the house with the trimmer. Just before I got to the farthest edge, the darn thing ran out of string. I threw the trimmer on the ground, and stamped my feet like a two year old. Damn! In that one moment, the frustration of a lot of things came out. My usual controlled self took a powder and the raging bitch emerged.

I yelled, “I didn’t sign up for this! This was supposed to be Ken’s job. Not mine!”  In my mind, grass is men’s work. My dad did it. Then my brother’s did it. Then my ex-husband did it. I never touched a lawnmower until now. Yuck!

To soothe my weed-whacker blues, I went into the house, drank a BIG glass of water, plopped down in front of my morning soap opera, and then played a couple of rounds of Candy Crush–only to lose each round.

To change my mood, I asked Ken to go out for lunch. We had a few minutes of fun at the Burger King, enjoying the $4 senior special and the oldies they were playing over the radio. After we were full of grease and sugar, I drove to the Walgreen’s for a quick prescription pick up and then it would be home to grade tests and evaluate student paragraphs. At least that was the plan.

When I went to pay for my ONE prescription, it turned out I didn’t have enough money in the checking account to cover it. Ouch. I hate it when that happens, but somehow when I go to buy something for me, the funds are too low. Every time it does, I’m embarrassed, and I end the event by apologizing to the clerk for causing so much trouble and leave defeated again.

These financial downturns are part of the trip down the MS road, and today, it was too much. I drove home in silence and walked into the backyard, took a deep breath and looked around. Even the grass still needs to be mowed, I found peace by just looking at the paper poppies and all of the flowers I’ve planned to delight our spring and summer. Even though much of the yard is over-grown and needs some serious weeding and trimming, it still was beautiful.

When Coffee Gets Cold, The World is a Dark Place

woman, computer and coffeeI’m a coffee drinker–a hard-core, black as it gets coffee drinker. I’m not a “coffee snob” who insists on the finest blends at the swankiest coffee houses. I’m just a person who loves the rich aroma and warmth of a hardy blend. The only thing I insist on is I be allowed to drink my brew in a mug–not one of those paper cups with the cardboard finger protector wrapped around it. How uncivilized!

Even though coffee stains my teeth, promotes bad breath, and gives me the shakes when I drink too much, I must have it. You see, it’s the fuel that powers me every morning. It turns the key in my ignition. It’s the spark that lights my fire! Well, you get it, right?

Even on hot summer days, which are a welcomed thought when temps are frigid as they have been for the past week, I have to have my morning cup (or two). I can’t think of anything more pleasant than reading a good book on my patio under an colorful umbrella with a full mug of the brew.

Now that I’m writing full-time, I believe my cup of coffee is the one thing that signals the beginning of a new day. When I’m writing, I lose track of time, forget what day it is, and usually stay in my jammies until noon. But with coffee in my favorite mug, I’ve got the world by the tail. I’m ready for whatever the day brings. . . that is, until the brew turns cold.

My coffee turning cold is the biggest hardship of this career. As I focus and create my lines, my brew sits abandoned. In revolt, of me neglecting it, the hot brew turns into iced as a punishment for my neglect.

I’ve tried an electric cup heater thingy, but all that does is make the coffee muddy and bitter. Yuck! I’ve tried putting it in a carafe, but it does not stay hot for long periods of time. The best solution for keeping  my cup of inspiration hot has been my husband, who asks me several times a morning if I could use a warm up.

My practical side assures me writing is like all jobs; there will be a part of it I don’t like and would rather not do. Having my coffee turn into an iced beverage before my eyes is the drawback of focusing, like all writers must. I lose time as I transport myself to other surroundings and time periods, I guess I can’t expect my coffee to wait for me as I do my exploring., but if somebody could come up with a device to let my coffee transport with me, he or she would be a millionaire.

Until then,  ‘ll just have to grin and gulp it. It seems to be the only answer.