Stream of Consciousness Sunday: The Grumpies

I was thinking the other day that I would do a non-prompt free writing day every 6 weeks or so. Are y’all down with that? What are your thoughts?

I know you have something you want to get off your chest… so GO!

stream of consciousness sunday

I miss Henry’s old school’s year round calendar. It was beautiful and there were no “grumpies” when school started back.

If you’re not familiar, year round calendars aren’t actually year round (mostly). His school started in early July, went for 9 weeks and had a 3 week break. Went 9 weeks, had a 3 week break. Went 9 weeks, had a 3 week break. Then went 9 weeks and had a 6 week summer.

It was perfect. There wasn’t enough time for the teachers to get fully burned out before a break. The kids were never burned out. They didn’t have a full summer to get lazy and bored and OMG NOT WANT TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL BECAUSE THEY MIGHT HAVE TO USE THEIR BRAIN. Retention rates are fabulous and the best part…

THERE WERE NO GRUMPIES!

The first 2 weeks (or 3) are crap around here now. Henry is so tired, doesn’t want to do his homework and just wants to complain and be kinda a pain in the butt. And I mean that in the most loving way.

Are your kids grumpy at the beginning of school?

**********************

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

  • Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.
  • Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
  • Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
  • Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post (in the sidebar). .
  • Link up your post below.
  • Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

The Dawning of a New Day… Every Day.

The Dawning of a New Day… Every Day.

I am, by nature, a morning person. (I know you all hate me now.) I bounce out of bed ready to take on the day and most days don’t even need coffee. At least not since the 2-pots-by-8am-every-day detox. My son is the same way. It’s disgusting, really.

This week, driving to work, I realized what I love about mornings so much.

It’s new. Every time the sun rises, you get a do-over. You get to do better than yesterday. You get to start fresh. You get to take the day by the horns and make it yours. A sunrise is full of hope.

I drive on a high overpass at Spaghetti Junction (the biggest clusterf*^k in Atlanta) every morning right as Mother Nature is putting on a show. I’ve been snapping quick pictures on top of the overpass every morning to compare the beauty of theses sunrises.

#spaghettijunctionsunrise, August 2012

#spaghettijunctionsunrise, August 2012

No two sunrises are alike.

I marvel at the daily differences in the brightness of the sun, the blueness of the sky, and the whiteness of the clouds. The sun is always in the same place, but what’s around it is what makes the sunrise. Lucky for Atlantans, humidity and smog makes for a lovely sunrise!

No two days are alike.

With the setting of the sun and the pulling up of the covers, we give up the fears and struggles and stress of the day. Some of it spills over into the next day, but no matter how bad the day before was, once the sun rises over the horizon, you’re guaranteed a fresh start.

And even if you have the same routine every single day, no two days are identical. There are different conversations, more chances to conquer your fears or meet your goals, and endless chances to make a difference.

A sunrise is hope for new beginnings.

It also means you’ve lived to see another day. Don’t waste it!

 

What I Learned At Work Wednesday

What I Learned At Work Wednesday

Skirts that have a snap, zipper and a drawstring are awesome. Especially when they have shorts underneath them.

But what happens when one of the modes of closure fails on you?

ps: I didn’t wet my pants. But I almost did and by God, that’s good enough to make it onto my blog.

Own The Room

Own The Room

A week or so before BlogHer, I sat in the tiny room of my energy healer with so much pent-up toxic energy I could have powered a steamship with it. She asked a simple question and I started talking. And I don’t think I stopped for 15 minutes.

When I was done and finally (quite literally) exhaled, she simply looked at me and said, “Wow. There are going to be tears today, aren’t there?

Life had been piling up on me in ways I can’t even explain. Nothing was bad but nothing was great. There was just a lot of excess stuff sitting on my heart and soul, weighing me down from the inside out.

I casually mentioned that I was going to BlogHer and the circumstances surrounding my decision to go. That was that.

After she did her magic (y’all, I swear this is better than an IV of chocolate during a marathon of Kate and Allie) we did our usual chatting. In the way that only Amy can do, she looked at me and told me to breathe. There was talk of a “major shift” and “boundaries” and all that other stuff I knew she would say when I went in.

What I wasn’t expecting her to say was this: “Even though you don’t get to read at the keynote, walk in there and own the room. Go buy a new dress and own the damn room.

Well, hmm. Easier said than done with 5000 people in one place. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t FEEL like I owned the room, right?

My friend Michele just happened to be coming to Atlanta for an appointment and I roped her into going shopping with me. She made me try on a dozen things — most of which I NEVER would have tried on myself.

We found the dress. It was comfortable, cool, ME and red. No matter how many extra pounds I have on right now, this dress made me feel amazing. Maybe Bill Blass was right when he said “When in doubt, wear red.

I knew I wouldn’t be reading. But I knew in my heart that being on that giant screen with the names of people I admire and long to write like was still a big deal. Crystal and I grabbed a place at the front with a great view of the speakers. Each of the readers did a wonderful job. There’s really something amazing about being able to hear a post read out loud, in the dialect, accent, and with the emphasis of the author. To be honest, I don’t know if I COULD have read in front of that many people if I HAD been chosen, so you know… yay for that!

After the Voices of the Year keynote and reception, Listen To Your Mother held an Open Mic Salon. Crystal and I were excited about the chance to throw our names and posts in the hat (bowl) to read but really didn’t figure we’d be able to.

I had chosen earlier in the week, Teach a Man To Fish to read if I got the chance. But at the 11th hour, just in case, I decided I really wanted to read my VOTY post. It was why I was even AT BlogHer, so it seemed fitting.

Damn if they didn’t draw my name to read second.

After I almost threw up and after I really wished I had a bottle of vodka handy, I stood up in front of a few hundred bloggers, writers, friends, and read my post.

For 5 minutes, I owned the room.

listen to your mother open mic night

I wore red, and I owned the room.

It was a rush I’ve never experienced. I felt the oxygen leave the room when a few hundred people collectively gasped when I read the words, “In 2003, our son died.” The hairs on my arms stood up when they clapped. And when people told me how lovely it was after, the tears fell.

My voice was heard.

And it felt good.

Lesson learned: When in doubt, DEFINITELY wear red!

Thank you Julia for taking this picture for me.
The haziness captured exactly how it felt in that room.
To read the other posts that were read at the LTYM Open Mic, see here.

Stream of Consciousness Sunday: Dreaming

Hey y’all! Whew. Made it through the first week of school for the kid and the first week of full time work for me. It’s gone well. Very well actually. I think I’m gonna like it a lot!

It’s taking me a little longer to make it through all the posts but I’m getting there! So glad y’all are joining in. Hope you’ll continue (and tell your friends).

I’ve been dreaming about writing lately. So that brings up a prompt about (shocking) dreams! What do you dream about? Do you have a life dream? Do you have recurring dreams during sleep?

Today’s (optional) prompt: Dreams

stream of consciousness sunday

Dreams are confusing to me. I just don’t understand where they come from. Especially recurring dreams.

How does my mind know that because I’m stressed I need to dream about the same thing over and over again? HOW DOES IT KNOW????

When I’m stressed, I have the same dream (and I’m sure lots of you do, too) about walking around naked in a parking deck. All the cars are the same. They all have Georgia tags and no identifying stickers. They’re all blue. Floors and floors of blue cars that all look just like mine. The floors aren’t numbered and there are no row numbers.

I’m naked. People are looking at me. They’re staring. I’m crying and confused and lost. I’m just LOST.

I know what the dream means. It means I’m searching. I’m stressed and searching for whatever that “thing” is. In my dream, it’s my car. In real life, it’s whatever’s next. It’s whatever’s lost inside of me. It’s whatever I need to find that will fix whatever’s wrong.

I have other dreams that are recurring. They’re all equally as disturbing but I know they’re not unusual. I’m not scared of them. At this point, they’re a marker that helps me know when it’s time to move forward, searching for that car in the sea of cars that are all the same.

Time’s up… 

**********************

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

  • Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.
  • Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
  • Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
  • Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post (in the sidebar). .
  • Link up your post below.
  • Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

 

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...