I Got Nothing



Uh-oh, the dreaded blank screen. What to write, what to write. I’ve been doing great at preparing posts the day before and having them lined up to post overnight. Except for Friday. Maybe it’s because it’s been too long of a long week. I have nothing. My mind’s a blank.

doubtI looked to Pinterest for some inspiration. I found some writing prompts, but I’m too tired to do anything right now other than share them.

notwritingThis one is nice.

droveI like to think that this is what my hubby does when he’s coming home to me. He’s often awake and driving at night when I’m sleeping. We sometimes are on opposite ends of the clock, and that’s hard. I like it when I know he’s coming home to me.

This one is just silly.

soundI know I’ve lived with boys (and boy humor) for far too long. All I could think of when I read that was, ‘did someone pass wind?’ Then I got a case of the giggles and couldn’t stop laughing.

This one is a little creepy.

heartbeatIt would make a good Halloween type of story, though. Is his heart beating again because he was buried alive? Has he come back to life? Was he reincarnated? It kind-of gave me the shivers.

improvewritingI write all the time outside of blogging (mostly for my own amusement). I’m not brave enough yet to revise and ready them for anything beyond the rough draft stage. It is true, though, with the more books I read the more certain I am I could do just as well (if not better) than some of the authors I’ve read. I think the day is coming soon when i will reach that point and I’ll be brave enough to take the next step.

writersblockOkay, cat, I get it. Hang it up for the night. Tomorrow will be a more productive day.

Images courtesy of Pinterest

Maybe I Like That I’m Not Alright


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I am a creature of habit. I might take those habits to the extreme sometimes, but who’s to say that my little quirks and oddities aren’t normal? Perhaps they’re just part of the pieces that make up the “whole” of me.

In school, I know I had a favorite seat in each classroom. I have a favorite chair at home, and I prefer to eat in the same seat in the cafeteria at work.

I always try to get the same parking spot each day. I feel annoyed when someone else gets there first. I tell myself that it makes it easier to find the car at night.

I have my own drinking glasses and my favorite coffee mug. No one else is allowed to use them. I don’t like the idea of anyone else’s lips on my cup. I have a favorite type of silverware. I prefer my grandmother’s old plastic handled ones. I tell my guys it’s because I have arthritis and don’t like how the bare stainless ones cut into my fingers. I have favorite dishes. I prefer the ones from the set I bought before our wedding. I have favorite towels that I use. I like the ones with a certain absorbency, and the pink one is my very favorite.

I have favorite clothing. Oh, how I miss Fashion Bug. Sadly, they are no longer in business here, and all my clothing items from that store are slowly wearing out one by one. They’ve become threadbare and aren’t decent to wear to work any longer.

I tend to listen to music in obsessive spurts, too. I’ll settle on a band and listen to their music over and over and over again. I’m sure my sons are sick of hearing the same song three or four times each night. The YouTube clip below is the latest song I’m obsessed with. I thought it was rather appropriate for this post.

I have to have the bedding just so before I can settle down and sleep. I fidget and fuss, smoothing the sheets and folding the edges back. I can’t sleep if it’s a wrinkled mess. That’s why I make the bed every morning so that it starts out smooth and cool, not rumpled and wrinkled. I punch and pound the pillow so that it supports my head and neck in just the right way. My poor hubby when he’s home has learned to ignore me. I settle down eventually.

My compulsiveness makes me good at what I do for a living. I work in an organized, detail-oriented, deadline-driven world. Intellectual Property law has its rules and guidelines that must be followed. Items are docketed, and details are tracked. If things get missed, it can be a fatal mistake for a patent or trademark application. That obsession with detail suits me just fine.

What do I conclude from these quirks of mine? At best, that I am content and most happy with all things familiar and the same. At worst, that I have a degree of OCD. I’m not always as flexible as I could be, but maybe that’s okay, too. It works for me.

Maybe I developed these quirks as a way to deal with and get past my natural reserve and shyness. If I’m comfortable with the (silly) little things that comfort and surround me, it allows me to function as an adult in society.

And, isn’t that what we all strive for?