People weren't on their best behavior last week. I don't know if it was the imaginary Memorial Day deadline that people set for themselves to get stuff done at the last minute so they could take the weekend off, spring fever, or just an inability to exercise self control, but whatever the case, humanity wasn't at it's best in my corner of the world.
I could rant. I could post a "shame on you" entry that would have people blushing and meekly putting on their manners (finally) for the next week. I could stick it to you. But instead, in the spirit of trying to take on a better, more positive mindset, I'm taking a different approach. I'm saying thank you. Yes, thank you for being a jerk, for when you are a jerk, you feed my muse immensely. Real life inspiration does more for character and plot development than any of the other "get out of writer's block" tips they have out there.
So to all the people that had the nerve to tell me to grow up/get a grip/it's gonna be ok/get your sh** together when I was having problems, and now they aren't heeding their own advice,
To all the people that got pissy with me when I tried to help them,
To all the people that asked questions and then threw fits over the answers,
To all the lazy people that spent more time making excuses than doing what they were supposed to do,
To the ones that snap "no" to us and then whine, scream, and cry when we say "no" to them just as fast,
To the complainers,
To the whiners,
To the bad drivers,
To the bad attitudes,
To the co-dependents,
Thank you for feeding my muse. While you explain why the devil made you do it, I'll be making money off your inspiration. So thank you.
And before you give me the "but you have to understand!" speech, stop. You don't tell me what to think. That privilege was gone 20 years ago, when I turned 18. I'm an adult. And if you don't have to listen to me, I don't have to listen to you.
Furthermore, if you thought I was weak over losing Ollie and all the medical and other drama with Rick's family, you thought wrong. Upset means I'm a decent enough person to care, not a weakling to be run all over. I buried a dead cat yesterday, right after supper, on a full stomach, without batting an eye. I knew that cat, too. He got hit by a car, and I was sorry he died, but I did what had to be done and it didn't break me - just like the rest of this hasn't. I'm not broken. This resistance is making me stronger. I have my crap together, thank you very much, and I'm ready to kick some a** now.
Honestly, I'm surprised that people are bold enough to act the way they do in front of a writer. But it's like Mom said - they don't think that way. They think they're an exception because they're special. They don't wonder for a minute where the inspiration comes from, until the book is released. And then, well, I wouldn't dare, would I?
I'll leave you to ponder that.
That's all today. Thanks to all who serve our country this Memorial Day weekend. Have a good one.
Bye!
I could rant. I could post a "shame on you" entry that would have people blushing and meekly putting on their manners (finally) for the next week. I could stick it to you. But instead, in the spirit of trying to take on a better, more positive mindset, I'm taking a different approach. I'm saying thank you. Yes, thank you for being a jerk, for when you are a jerk, you feed my muse immensely. Real life inspiration does more for character and plot development than any of the other "get out of writer's block" tips they have out there.
So to all the people that had the nerve to tell me to grow up/get a grip/it's gonna be ok/get your sh** together when I was having problems, and now they aren't heeding their own advice,
To all the people that got pissy with me when I tried to help them,
To all the people that asked questions and then threw fits over the answers,
To all the lazy people that spent more time making excuses than doing what they were supposed to do,
To the ones that snap "no" to us and then whine, scream, and cry when we say "no" to them just as fast,
To the complainers,
To the whiners,
To the bad drivers,
To the bad attitudes,
To the co-dependents,
Thank you for feeding my muse. While you explain why the devil made you do it, I'll be making money off your inspiration. So thank you.
And before you give me the "but you have to understand!" speech, stop. You don't tell me what to think. That privilege was gone 20 years ago, when I turned 18. I'm an adult. And if you don't have to listen to me, I don't have to listen to you.
Furthermore, if you thought I was weak over losing Ollie and all the medical and other drama with Rick's family, you thought wrong. Upset means I'm a decent enough person to care, not a weakling to be run all over. I buried a dead cat yesterday, right after supper, on a full stomach, without batting an eye. I knew that cat, too. He got hit by a car, and I was sorry he died, but I did what had to be done and it didn't break me - just like the rest of this hasn't. I'm not broken. This resistance is making me stronger. I have my crap together, thank you very much, and I'm ready to kick some a** now.
Honestly, I'm surprised that people are bold enough to act the way they do in front of a writer. But it's like Mom said - they don't think that way. They think they're an exception because they're special. They don't wonder for a minute where the inspiration comes from, until the book is released. And then, well, I wouldn't dare, would I?
I'll leave you to ponder that.
That's all today. Thanks to all who serve our country this Memorial Day weekend. Have a good one.
Bye!
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