Cigarette Break by Jackie
Writing is hard. There are literally days when I rather take a needle and poke myself in the eye then come up with more story ideas. See, here I am trying to come up with something and I’m having a hard time chasing ideas for my blog, possibly because I’m on Shine.com and there’s an article about dogs. I always stop to read something about dogs. But Miriam is giving me the stink eye which I’ve noticed she has perfected. I’m impressed. She might give my mother a run for her money.
Maybe I’m stressed out because I only have a half-pack of cigarettes left. I knew I should have stopped at the store.
So is writing so hard? I think one reason is that I’m afraid of sounding stupid because when the stuff in my head hits the paper, it doesn’t make sense. Miriam, I’m taking a cigarette break.
(Jackie wanted me to put in something witty while she was gone, but the wittiest I could think of isn’t really witty. I’m keeping it to myself—Miriam.)
I’m back. I only have seven cigarettes left. Now I have to put on a bra and head out to the stop n’ rob. I wonder if Miriam will notice I’m gone. Maybe I can get her to take a name. Then she’ll never notice I’m tip-toeing out of the house to replenish my supply.
(I still have nothing witty to say—Miriam.)
I’m back. Ooo! Facebook. Let me see what my friends are doing. Elizabeth St. John is eating pie. Rashounda Jones Aiken is reading. I’m jealous because there is a Patricia Briggs book with my name all over it and Miriam is making me write stuff.
(She can’t have it until I’m done reading—Miriam .)
April Wood got her nose pierced. Wow, there’s a life webcam to look at puppies. Oh! Puppies! Seressia Glass is making bacon pancakes. Seressia, invite me to Atlanta. Frederik Stein is playing paintball. Farrah Rochon is in Turkey, not the bird, the country. And she is having way too much fun. Wish I were with her.
I only have five cigarettes left. Homicide may be committed today. James Madison, the fourth president, is celebrating his birthday is today. I’ll have a drink his honor. Did you know he helped facilitate the Louisiana Purchase, still to this day the greatest purchase ever? (It was a land grab—Miriam.) I’m out of pomegranate popsicles. Now I really have to go to the store today. Where’s my bra?
Only four cigarettes left. I’m starting to sweat. Miriam, aren’t you ready for your nap yet. There’s a new episode of Ripper Street on. I love that show and an totally happy Amazon.com bought the series and will produce new episodes. And Miriam is texting her granddaughter who sends her tons of I love you messages during the day. Do you think Miriam will suspect I’m playing hearts while trying to come up with something for this blog? I turned the sound down. I think I can get away with it.
Miriam says this is getting too long. So in conclusion, I would like to state for the record, more than anything else in the world, I love writing. I like the fact that it’s hard to do. Deep down inside, I’m always intrigued by the process and grateful for the chance to do it.
Now that I’ve got that whine off. (Do you need cheese and crackers, too?—Miriam) I’m ready. I’m going to bust out a few more pages of our current story, then I’m finding my bra, heading to the store to pick up cigarettes, buy Magnum bars and then run around the back yard and hope to God I don’t trip in one of his I’m-going-to-find-the-gopher holes.
Good day, mission accomplished. I got my blog done and I’m doing the happy dance. Everybody, go forth and accomplish something magnificent today.
Much Love, Jackie
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