Currently working on: What seems like the 10th or 15th version of a proposal
Well, there’s “Mmmmmm” and “hmmmm.” In the rich options of our language, the two can mean several things. In my mind, “Mmmmm” refers to things like warm chocolate chip cookies and the smell of beeswax candles. I’m going for “hmmmm,” as in “huh?” which ties in with my mood.
(And in response to last month’s topic about procrastination, well, you can see I’m just getting around to that.)
1. If we’re in deflation or a depression or whatever, why did McDonalds raise the price of my life blood, Diet Coke? Aren’t prices supposed to go down?
2. Why do the pets see me as part of the furniture until I try to sit down at the computer to work? Then they’re hungry or choose the moment to cough up a hairball or need to roll around behind my chair.
3. I’ve noticed that I’m not alone in my pen fetish. A lot of writers are pretty picky about their writing instruments, regardless of value (maybe it’s an old Bic), and the one you like the best is the one someone else in the house will, um, borrow. To get around the question I’ve heard about this—“What, does it have your name on it?”, with my label machine I can now answer, “Yes, see?”
4. During the holidays, I often eat as though I’m storing up the calories I’ll need while hibernating like a bear come January 1. Or as if every meal is my last. I don’t think I’m alone in this one either; after Christmas every diet plan and gym fill the TV airwaves with commercials. After all my years on this planet, why haven’t I learned that stuff about behavior modification? (My thanks to Lisa Jackson for introducing me to that artichoke-jalapeno dip I never would have tried otherwise. Now I think it should have its own starring role on the food pyramid.)
5. Is there a community college course to explain the assorted mysteries printed on royalty statements?
As I write this, my wind-burned, leaf-filled, chicken-pooped backyard is being washed clean with a layer of snow. Take a moment this season to slow down, draw a quiet breath and let the peace and beauty of all the good things in your life soothe you. Richard Carlson’s advice is spot-on: Don’t sweat the small stuff because it’s ALL small stuff.