Last night, I dreamed that I was married to Matt Damon and we had a toilet in our dining room.
Matt Damon sat at the dining table and told me he knew we would be together forever when we picked out the toilet because he thought to himself “this toilet will last for the rest of our lives.”
I know why I dreamed this. I think it had more to do with the toilet than the Damon.
I needed to get up and go, you know? It was the 4:00 a.m. calling.
My befuddled brain tried to embarrass me awake.
Pee, in front of Matt Damon?
Eyes open. 😯
Wide awake now, thanks.
And back to real life, very real life…
A couple of my friends from high school recently lost someone very dear to them. Their experience got me thinking about why I started my blog.
I blabbed in the beginning about my childhood friend, Betsy. She died of breast cancer in 2003. We were both 38.
Even now, I wake up everyday and instantly think of her. She is on my mind as I fall asleep and she is sometimes in my dreams. I also see her in every young mom with a ponytail.
I talk to her constantly and sometimes feel like a fool for doing it, but I do it anyway. And sometimes I hear her talking to me and I take her advice, or I roll my eyes.
She still informs all of my major life decisions and many of the teeny ones too. I knew her a long time and I usually know just what she would say.
The rest of what I know and think and feel about her, and myself, and our friendship, is all kind of private. I can’t have it taken apart by anyone on the internet.
I don’t know why I feel compelled to mention any of this, except that I feel I somehow owe an explanation to Betsy herself.
She was the one who always told me to write. I’ve been thinking about that a lot this month and I decided that if I don’t write about her, then I have to write for her.
To that end, I entered NPR’s Three-Minute Fiction contest.
You know that moment after you leave a big school exam or a job interview and you realize exactly how you sank yourself? Entering this contest kind of worked like that for me.
I was thrilled by the writing challenge, I got exponentially more excited after I submitted my piece, and I was glued to the Three Minute Fiction Facebook fan page for a good three hours afterward.
Then I started re-reading my story. I read it over and over and over again.
I saw its flaws unraveling before me and I got kind of depressed and embarrassed. 😦 It wasn’t good. It still isn’t, and of course, there is no opportunity to edit. I hit “submit” and now NPR editors are seeing it (and me) with all imperfections exposed. Ugh.
Several days have passed and I am feeling a little better about it. I can see what I did wrong and I am learning from it instead of turning red. It was a good exercise and I will enter the contest again. You should too.
And speaking of good exercise…
An Update On The Boy
I have been trying to write about him this month, but nothing feels quite right.
There is progress, but there are set-backs too and I can’t think of the best way to talk about all of it.
Instead, you get a video of his favorite activity.
And yes, the video ends because I sneeze. 🙂