THE ADVENTURE CREW: Master, The Nomad, Sweet Bird of Freedom (aka Freeta Roam), Pixie & Pod, Miss Cycle, Ivan the writing muse, Jude, and the brains of the crew--Croc.
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WEDNESDAY—ASSES TO ASHES--title of this post compliments of Cousin Renae!
The Illogical Committee is no more! And the first test to see if I’ve learned the lesson came today. Isn’t that the way the Cosmos works? A job offer in the form of an e-mail. Of course this job is much more blah-blah interesting than the other platitude-blah jobs because of its platitude-cliché diversity. And the pay! Did I mention the pay?
I politely read it and shook my head. (Okay, okay, I pounded my head against the wall repeatedly so the ghosts and ashes of the Illogical Committee would steer clear of the earthquake zone.) Then I went about my business. The point is, this time there were no crazy voices in my head, other than my own. Does my own count?
Here I am—55, only one baby-not under 18 left in the nest, and another baby-not fluttering her wings. The end is in sight and it is looking good. My first relatively free year was last year (2003) and I spent/wasted it on projects mostly not mine—but learned a lesson that I’m implementing this year: I can live my own dreams because I’m the one that gets to choose how I experience life.
#1 Dream: Writing full-time.
I’ve been writing for the past almost 17 years, but only in bits and snippets, with long, dry stretches in between, because I was raising six children--and dealing with the Illogical Committee.
This year has been different. I’ve been different. I’ve been writing seriously. (That isn’t to say the blues haven’t occasionally shown up for the unexpected afternoon visit; but they don’t seem to like stale cookies and sour milk. And that’s all I have to serve them because I’m too busy writing to grocery shop.)
Right now I’m thinking the Cosmos is absolutely brilliant with wisdom. If it hadn’t prodded me to kill the Illogical Committee yesterday, I would be in the torture chamber today.
Way to go Cosmos!