I have a tendency to create deadlines for myself and when I push up against them, the next thing I do is is fight like crazy to meet them. It’s always been that way. I do my best work when I am meeting a deadline.
This week’s is for me to finish writing this novel. I’m so close. It’s no longer a matter of thinking about the creative process, it’s pushing through … writing and doing the work. There is nothing other than for me to keep plugging away. That’s something I do well. When in doubt, I work.
My family knows this about me, even better than I know it, I guess.
When I got home I found M&Ms on my desk. Max was ready for my addiction. There wasn’t just one bag waiting for me, there were two. He always has M&Ms for me, he’s found it to be much easier to put up with me if I have that mood-altering substance around. He was a little surprised when I packed both of them to come back with me, but I knew he’d have more for the next time I walk into the house.
If that wasn’t enough, Carol totally set me up for a return to writing. I came back with turkey leftovers and then she started cleaning out her freezer for me. When Carol cleans out her freezer, it’s a lot of fun! I got bagels and hummus and then she unloaded these awesome microwaveable Chinese dinners at me. I couldn’t believe it. Living out here in the sticks, my little grocery store doesn’t have a lot of exotic choices for food and good Chinese food is one of those things I miss … a lot.
I don’t know if Carol was being nice to me or attempting to get rid of things she didn’t really think she’d use. She has a tendency to do that to me sometimes. I’ve always covered for her when it came to weird and odd foods.
Long ago, she and I were invited to a party at a friend’s home. The woman was a world traveler and had collected beautiful items throughout her entire life. The floors were covered with not one Persian rug in each room, but there were rugs piled three and four high in each room. No flat space was left uncovered, they were filled with beautiful antiques.
Jane loved food and always put together extravagant and exotic dishes for her parties. That evening, Carol and I were chatting with other party goers and in a small room, surrounded by beautiful things. One of the tables had a tray filled with different types of caviar and crackers. Neither of us had ever eaten that before, so it was going to be a good opportunity to try something new. I put a little dab on a cracker and didn’t like it at all. Way too salty. Carol, however, took one bite and nearly gagged. Then, she didn’t know what to do with the rest of the cracker, so she handed to me, pleading in her eyes. I ate it. Of course I did.
We got into another room and someone handed Carol a cup of spicy tomato juice. She took a sip and … again with the eyes. She handed the cup to me and of course, I finished it, there was really no other choice.
It’s always been that way. Carol knows that I’ll take the gastronomical hit for her. But sometimes, she comes through for me and fills my cupboards and refrigerator with things that will take care of me while I dig down and work this week.
TB is covered. I got a big bag of cat food last week. He won’t starve either. I just need to find ways to keep him entertained when my brain is trying to assemble pieces of a plot into a chapter.