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Rachael, Kristin, Kaylan, and Kari

Rachael, Kristin, Kaylan, and Kari

Writing a novel is the best thing I’ve ever decided to do.

It’s hard work. It’s frustration and tears. It’s learning about myself one sentence at a time.

At this point I don’t care at all if anyone else loves it the way I do.

 

So, most of my spare time is in some way, shape, or form, given over to this writing project. When I’m not actually sat down at my desk or a table at Starbucks filling blank digital pages with the words in my head, I’m thinking about a character and the way they smell, or talk, or wear their hair. Or I’m thinking of what I need to go back and re-write, what needs to be added, a detail that I didn’t know until I had written this far. Honestly, it’s work that is very hard to step away from and for the first time in my life that’s a really good thing.

Last night I did take some time to step away, though, and I had dinner with my sisters.

All of them. Including my sister in-law.

We had dinner at Abuelos in Austin and then coffee and desserts at Mozart’s after.

It was a beautiful and fun time together.

I figured I’d better enjoy it while I can because someday I’ll write a novel about all of them and then they’ll all hate me. Ha! =)

This morning I woke up to my Monday 7:30am alarm and went into the bathroom.

When I came out I realized that my bed looked like a small tornado had been sleeping in it. My duvet cover was rolled and twisted into a heap on the left side of the bed up by where my head would have been. No wonder I’d woken up kind of chilly!

So. Mondays are for writing and I am listening to new writing music and trying to not be too bogged down by yesterday.

Yesterday was a hot mess.

So many emotion, so many random bouts of crying, so many things not going the way I thought they should have. When you’re a girl you have these days. Maybe guys have them too, I’m not really sure, but the way these days are met by the men in my life with a look of confusion and mild terror makes me think not.

So here I go.

Writing.

Wish me many good words.

Yesterday was just an off day.

I had to build a youth events page on Facebook and it took the better part of the day when it should have been something I got done in a about an hour. Things just kept going wrong.

I did a whole lot of thinking about writing. Not so much actual writing.

It’s not writers block I’m dealing, I know what I need/want to be writing, I’m just afraid of the emotional state I might end up in writing it. I’ll get there though. I know what needs to be done.

I rode my bike for a little while and it made me feel a little better about how the day had gone, but not as much as I’d hoped, maybe I didn’t ride long or far enough. I don’t know.

I went to the grocery store with Kristin.

It was chaos… there were people everywhere. At 4pm the grocery store becomes a war zone. One one side you have the slow-moving but relentless elderly and on the other soccer moms with screaming toddlers. If you fall anywhere in between those two extremes your objective once inside is just to get out alive with at least three things from your list. There’s pretty much no hope of getting everything you came for.

Kristin and I managed to get out with our lives and little else, but not before Kristin was accosted in the 15 items or less line by the older women behind us.

“YOU have more than 15 items!” the woman announced loudly. The cashier and I looked at each other warily as my sister, the beacon of friendly behavior that she normally is, turned to face her accuser.

“NOT ME” Kristin announced to the older woman’s face, “I counted!” and then she turned to look at me with a face that said, “get me the hell out of here before I punch an old biddy!” 

At that point the women behind us started to make out that she had only been kidding. Bad choice lady, at 4pm in the grocery store you can get run over with a shopping cart for jokes like that. Bad choice.

In the middle of all of that chaos I had noticed one women, also on the older side, walking leisurely through the isles, not the slow pace of the infirm, just not in any particular rush. She was, the entire time, talking on her cell phone and loading her basket. She seemed to be the only person in the entire store who was oblivious to the madness around her and it was amazing to me that she could hear well enough to carry on a phone conversation over the roar of bawling babies, shopping carts crashing together and the incessant beeping of the check-out stands.

As she passed me on her way out I heard her say to her friend on the other end of the line, “You see the best in everyone, Yolanda. You really do.”

It made me stop and think for a minute, literally about 60 seconds because in a war zone grocery store that’s all the time you have for deep contemplation. I don’t know that I always see the best in people, not really. I see a lot, but I don’t know if I would say that I even strive to see whatever is best about them. If I’m being generous with myself and others sometimes I manage to see what’s good in them.

Do we miss a lot by not looking for the best in others?

Is there a difference in seeing good in other people and learning how to see whats best about them?

I don’t know.

I got out of the grocery store alive and haven’t thought about it again until just now.

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