I’ve been wracking my brains as to what to write about this week. The Old Boy’s out hunting bargains at garage sales; his favourite thing to do on a Saturday morning. The Wonder Dog is curled up nearby, on top of the recliner, having a snooze: one of his favourite things to do every morning. I’ve had breakfast, the second cup of coffee is on the desk, and I’m poised; ready to dispense witty observations, philosophical meanderings and brilliant insights. The result so far? Nada. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Zero.
Here’s a little observation I will freely share with the world: tendinitis is the pits, baby! It blinking well hurts.
It’s been one of those sad, grey weeks. The Colorado theatre shooting thing was just appalling. The young perpetrator is definitely – to use a medical term – stark-staring-bonkers. I can’t imagine the terror the victims felt. But, I have a little question…please indulge me for a moment…what were people doing taking a three month old baby and a six year old child to the movies at midnight? Different people, different lives I guess. Good on Christian Bale for visiting the survivors in hospital. Nice gesture; although I think he should have worn the Batman suit and made it even more special. Then again, if he did, some would just say he was doing it for publicity. It’s such a cynical world we live in.
Of course, the people of Syria are living through a similar nightmare every single day. And that’s as depressing as all heck. When will the madness end? And what about the starving thousands (or more) in the Sahel (continent of Africa)? This time the rest of the world is in a bit of a bind, economically speaking, so the aid isn’t pouring in like it used to. The Euro’s under threat so people in the Sahel will just have to die. Try explaining that to a starving child.
My son had to take his darling old mastiff dog, Sarge, for a final visit to the vet, yesterday. It was a kindness to the dog, but still gut-wrenching for those who knew and loved him. Of course, when these things happen, old sooks like me can’t help remembering other pets, other visits to the vet, other times of crying oneself to sleep over an animal. I know…I know…try explaining that to a starving child. The thing is we can’t pick and choose what makes us sad.
I’m still waiting to hear news (good or bad) from the publishers to whom I submitted my teen novel, You Cry You Die. It’s a good story, even if I do say so myself. I’m trying not to despair, but I’m seriously tempted. Of course, this week I read about two different authors who have recently written their first novel, and both of them had publishers in a bidding war and both have not only sold said first novel but have made a very handy sum while doing so. Can I just make it clear for any editor/publisher reading this blog: you don’t have to fight for it; you don’t have to offer a squillion dollars. I’d be thrilled if you just put the thing in print. Please.
Meanwhile I’m working on another book. It’s something completely different. I intended it to be light-hearted, humourous satire but – I guess I can’t help myself – it’s become a little serious and now I’m having trouble writing it. The main character has stupidly got herself sick with breast cancer and it’s messing with my emotions. By the way, I HATE the South Australian Health Department’s latest ad for breast-screening. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for women getting mammograms. But this ad tells women that they should do it to save their loved ones from the pain and suffering they’ll endure if the woman gets cancer. Thanks a lot, SAHealth! Well done, you! Now, all of us with breast cancer can feel guilty for hurting our dear ones. How dare we get sick and put them through that ordeal.
So, my apologies to everyone who loves me. I hadn’t realised that when I got myself a hearty dose of cancer, that I was being so irresponsible. I should have realised what it would put you through.
All right; I admit it. I’m feeling crabby today. I’m tired from lack of sleep and I’m sick of putting up with a stupid carcass that hurts. Tendinitis! Really? What was I thinking? It’s a great blinking painful NUISANCE. A friend prayed for healing for me yesterday. Now it hurts even more. For goodness sake!
That’s it. Cheer me up, people. I dare you.