Today’s post is for Nichole, over at In These Small Moments.
Because she worries too much.
“Mark?”
“What’s up?”
“I need an idea.”
“You always get mad at me when you ask me for an idea.”
“Not this time. I promise. Give me something.”
“Fine. Write about that tumbleweed we used to have behind our fence in San Diego.”
“Really? What about tumbleweed screams inspiration to you? Tumbleweeds are what blow through empty abandoned space. Are you saying my brain is filled with empty abandoned space?”
“No, I am just saying you are blocked, and . . .”
“DID YOU JUST SAY I AM BLOCKED?”
“No, you did.”
“No, I so fucking did not.”
“I thought that’s what you meant.”
“Do not say the word blocked. This is like a magic trick over here . . . every day I manage to put up a post without thinking too much about how I am doing that. Sometimes, when I am done and I read over what I have written, I am all . . . What the fuck? How did that happen?”
“That sounds terrifying.”
“What?”
“That makes it sound like you have no control.”
“Are you saying I’m a dick?”
“What?”
“I’m a dick. Every day, I get erect and splash some semen on the screen. Yay!”
“I so did not say that.”
“Until the day when nothing happens, and then I am fucked. Except not fucked.”
“Because you have no erection?”
“Duh.”
“You are the weirdest woman I have ever known.”
“This is hard work over here, you know.”
Mark sighs, “Are we talking about writing or sex?”
“Writing. Pay attention. Every day I have to think of something to say. I have to collect my thoughts in my mind. I have to find a way to communicate those thoughts to the people who come to read my words. Every day, I worry that I will miss . . . that my readers will be all what the fuckish.”
Mark giggles, “What the fuckish?”
“Yes . . . an adjectival phrase describing the state of non-comprehension.”
“OK, now I am what the fuckish . . . adjectival phrase?”
“I am so sad for you, man of baby words.”
“Don’t get all sassy, big-worded woman. I may not have big words, but look at me . . . I am typing and saying things without obsessing!”
I watch him type for a moment.
Annoying.
He looks at me, “I may be a genius! I have just answered an email without worrying one time about whether the recipient would be what the fuckish. Why? Because I am a communicator.”
I stare at him.
He smiles, “It’s a gift, Kris. Not everyone is born to communicate.”
Annoying.
“That’s why they made me a Thought Leader. People like you are all sad and waiting to be led and then I show up and communicate and then you are all . . . Yes! That’s just what I was going to say! That’s just what I was going to do!”
I stare at him.
He types some more. Hits send again, “You think it’s your idea, but really? I have planted the idea in your head. I don’t like to brag, but a lot of what’s been going on around here lately comes from my mind.”
I stare at him.
He turns back to his computer, “You’re welcome.”
“Welcome for what?”
“For giving you a blog post idea. You are so going to write about how annoying I am.”
Annoying.
I sit in my chair and stare at my blank screen, “Well, now I am all annoyed at how easily you led me.”
Mark giggles, “I told you . . . I am good at this.”
“AUGH! How can I write when I am all upset and stressed about my sheeplike qualities?”
Mark walks over and stands behind me.
We stare at my empty screen together. Mark puts his hands on my shoulders and massages a bit, “You are so tense. Relax. You always manage to write something. You will write something today.”
A few minutes pass.
I look up at him, “Ummm, babe?”
“Yes?”
“My boobs do not actually need massaging or relaxing. What’s up with that, babe?”
“Shush, I can tell they are holding all of your tension. Let me help you.”
Snort!
A few more minutes pass.
I look into his eyes, “I am embarrassed at how easily you are leading my thoughts.”
He kisses me, “I told you I was good at this.”
A bunch of minutes pass.
And then I wrote a post.
It just suddenly came to me!
Splash!
Ahem.
Baa!
Also?
You SO had daytime sex!
Heh.
I so did!
But he started it.
And you finished it!
Hee hee!
I do like to finish.
I need to learn these “Thought Leader” skills.
And put them to good use.
In the day time.
*wink*
Yes . . . I have skills as well.
But ummm.
That’s not what today’s post was about.
Shhhh.
Love this.
Except I haven’t been able to write for two weeks. I’m distracted. And the Muse took a vacation.
But this was awesome. Specially since I started reading too fast and initially thought Maj was asking for advice. Until I go to the “no, I so fucking did not”
Then I went back and breathed the large sigh of relief.
See? Distracted.
Renee -
A secret? That’s why I write every day. Even on the days when I am not really feeling it . . . even on the days when it feels more like a chore than a joy.
Because once I get out of the habit of writing every day?
I just know I will have a hard time starting up again.
Here’s to the return of your muse, babe (she’ll be back).
Love to you.
Kris
She never goes far. And really, too much going on at work right now. That’s a lot of it.
And love back at you
That’s not the same as being stuck, then.
You just need to invite the Muse to sit down with you.
Haha!!! I agree with Stasha, you definitely had daytime sex.
Signed,
Sheepish sheep.
Alison -
Mark is abusing his Thought Leader powers.
Pretty sure.
Husbands can be good for a few things, can’t they?
Related? I really could use a massage.
Mark’s massages are not actually massages.
They are goal-oriented.
Always.
Ahem.
Are there husbands whose massages are NOT goal oriented?
*crickets chirping*
Didn’t think so.
Stephanie -
Also showers or baths . . . Mark is very helpful where cleanliness is concerned.
My boobs require a lot of washing.
Hee hee!
yay for us both writing about our meandering brains.
but i did not get sex out of my meandering.
also? before the sexy stuff? you realize you are maj and mark is kallan in this post, right?
hilarious to me.
I do love when the meandering leads to sex.
As for the other?
Our daughters are our daughters for a reason.
Hee hee!
You never miss.
Trust me.
Angie -
That is a lovely thought.
It might be better to say that I never miss with you, though.
Not everyone sees all of what I am doing here.
Me
My comment stands.
Deftly deflected or not.
Love.
xx
Thank you, then.
Love to you.
Now, see…I spend my day wandering around in a what-the-fuckish state, until I get here.
THEN I am in my element.
I understand your adjectival writing. I nod. I can anticipate the dialogue.
HERE I am in fucking gettage.
Cause I so fucking get it.
Hello, you!
I love that you are in fucking gettage here.
You just totally made my night.
Mark made the afternoon.
But you made my night.
Yay!
What Lori said.
Ditto. So happy I am reading this at home, instead of at work where you are categorized as porn.
Sherri -
I am actually quite pleased to be categorized as porn.
There are no boundaries about which I must be concerned.
I can just say whatever I want to say!
Porn is freeing.
Yay!
Nichole?
Love that.
Thank you, babe.
Double ditto what Lori said!
Double ditto?
Love that.
Another brilliant T-shirt idea from Lori:
HERE I AM IN FUCKING GETTAGE.
(just a thought.)
Splash. Ha!
That would be an AMAZING T-shirt!
Lori!
Go do that!
I’m just going to triple ditto this.
Silly you!
Yay!
I love conjugating that particular word…but what-the-fuckish is new to the list. :-)
As for daytime sex? That is totally enviable! ;-)
Sam -
Daytime conjugating is yummy.
Yay!
I so need to become a thought leader…
I was going to lead with “what the fuck! What a great post!”
But I didn’t think people would the sarcasm. I am in a very sarcastic mood.
But seriously, I’m helping my wife with her homework tonight. Ahem.
Russell -
You so should be a Thought Leader!
Practice on your wife.
Let me know how that goes.
Broad strokes, babe.
Ummmm . . .
By “broad strokes,” I mean the level of detail required in the relating of your story.
It was not a call to action.
Although, if that works for you as well?
You are welcome.
lol too funny Kris. Lunchtime splashes were had. I like how you just write and are unapologetic about what comes out. It leads to brilliant posts.
Thank you, kind sir!
I always write.
I never apologize.
I get me.
Whoever else ends up coming along for the ride?
An extra lovely bonus!
Thank you.
Kris
Never mind daytime sex – any time is the right time – my standards are getting desperate over here.
PLUS – I think it’s possible that’s the first time I’ve ever heard the word fuckish – and that’s saying a lot coming from trucker mouth me.
Congrats?
Fuckish has got to be a word people use.
It has to be!
Let me check Urban Dictionary.
Snort!
It’s there!
It means wanting to have sex!
Check it out:
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=fuckish
I think you need to submit your alternate use, fo’sho!
Hee hee!
I did tell you that they accepted Spatulay and Pre-Copying, right?
Such a silly thing, but that little acceptance email was quite awesome!
Happy sighs.
Me
Feckin’ NO – OMG – How frickin’ exciting is that plain-text email?!
I know!
So lame of me.
But really . . . it was kind of awesome!
My life’s dream is to be able to say something this, “a lot of what’s been going on around here lately comes from my mind.”
I could die happy.
Thank you for making me feel better today…I so love you.
I love that you get me. As crazy as I am, you get me.
Nichole -
You do worry too much, you know.
You are an amazing writer . . . no matter what the process is that fills your page?
Your filled page is magic.
So there.
You? Have a good man. Even if he is all sneaky and Kallan-ish from time to time. (They definitely have a bit of the coyote/trickster archetype vibe going there.) Enjoy. (Oh, wait, you did!)
Mark is perfect for me.
Maybe not perfect . . but then neither am I.
But he is perfect for me.
And that so shines through in all that you write about him, even (especially) when you are making serious fun out of him. It is wonderful that you two found each other – and that you made such wonderful little people together, too.
(OK, I know I’m being way too serious and sentimental tonight, it’s just that I spent time today with my very sad widowed mother and its quite sobering. Sigh.)
Varda -
Awwww . . . you make me all teary.
Marrying Mark is the best and smartest thing I have ever done.
Love you.
Kris
I cannot wait until this kid is in school and daytime sex is a possibility.
It is awesome.
So awesome.
I remember. The kid used to nap.
Poor napless you.
Both girls stopped napping when they were about one year old.
A long stretch of naplessness until preschool.
A long stretch.
Snort!
p.s. a ‘here i am in fucking gettage” hoodie would be good, too.
A hoodie is brilliant!
I want one!