Journal Entry for March 26, 2022

Well, I promised myself I would write a blog entry every day.  I have missed today so far.  So here I am writing something, anything, to keep going.

Harmony the Cat isn’t bothered by any of this.  She’s in the kitchen, sleeping on a flattened-out grocery bag that she has adopted as a bed.  She doesn’t care if I write a blog entry or not.  She only cares about treats, comfortable sleeping spots, looking out the back door window, getting brushed, getting petted, playing with toys, boxes, and bags, and sleeping with me on the bed.  She doesn’t know there is a war in Eastern Europe right now, prices are high, utility bills are going up, and Mommy hasn’t written her blog entry yet.  It must be nice to have a simple life like that.

I’ll write about Harmony the Cat one of these days because she’s a good subject.

Journal Entry for February 26, 2022

 

February 26, 2022

Today is Saturday.  When I was still working full-time in the old days, that meant something.  Now it only means that all the morning television shows that I turn on during the week are missing, and I have to search to find something good on TV.  Since I tend to use the TV as background noise, this should not be important, but it is.  I am very spoiled.

I have chosen a Harry Potter marathon as my TV-in-the-background choice today.  That is always safe, except for the later Harry Potter movies, which are more complicated than the others, and I can’t just look in on them occasionally and know precisely what is going on.  Of course, I could stop whatever else I am doing (such as writing this journal entry) and concentrate on watching the movie, but that would involve actual concentration, which is work.

Somebody (Voldemort, I think) just yelled “Avada Kedavra” at someone in one of Harry’s dreams.  That was dramatic enough to get me to stop and look.

These writing exercises are working, at least to the extent that they get me to sit down and put words into the computer.  They also inspire me to try to be at least a little bit funny.  Now I just have to find a suitable subject and write a real piece of literature.  Literature is challenging, especially if you are not inclined to be a “literary” writer.  This is the kind of writer that does well in creative writing classes because the teacher thinks they are so talented and so ... well ... literary.  I can’t write that way to save all the money in the world and my life.  When I write a short story, it has to have a decent plot, strong characters, and a lot of humor.  That might get me a grudging A-minus in a creative writing class, but it won’t get me a spot in a literary magazine.

How did I go from Harry Potter movies to literary magazines?  Talk about meandering!

At any rate, here I am, sitting at the computer, actually writing something, for the third day in a row.  This has to be a record for me.  Now I just have to keep it up.

Journal Entry for February 25, 2022

 

February 25, 2022

Here I am again, sitting, trying to write anything to get the words flowing.  So far, so good, although I could find myself stopped anytime.

My birthday was three days ago.  I didn’t get any presents or phone calls or anything, but I got loads of good wishes on Facebook, which means something.  My actual celebration will take part on Sunday late afternoon.  I will go out to eat with Andrey and Joan.  Andrey couldn’t make it on an earlier day because he and his wife went out of town on a well-deserved mini vacation for a few days this week.  I hope they had a good time and good weather.

Speaking of weather, we have miserable weather today, with snow and sleet.  I put in an Instacart order for some groceries and felt guilty about bringing my “shopper” out on a day like this.  I gave her an extra $10 in cash to add to her tip.  I also gave her a good rating and compliments and tried to make her look good to the Instacart people.  A shopper has to do something pretty wrong to get me to give less than five stars because I don’t want to make trouble for anyone on their job.  I guess I’m an old softy at heart, or I feel responsible for the world.  I’ll have to figure that one out.

I feel responsible for the world, and I think that is my old-fashioned Catholic school upbringing.  Catholic guilt has more than one facet to it, and I think this is one of them.  In addition to being guilty of sin and, therefore, guilty of causing Jesus to be crucified, we are responsible for the world.  It’s a lot to put on a person’s shoulders.

I have now gone over 300 words.  Three hundred words is not a magic sum, but I seem to have made it into a self-imposed limit because of the Corlear Gardens Newsletter, for which I try to write something every month.  To avoid making the newsletter too long, I limit my contributions to 300 words.  Besides that, I’m not sure the attention span of my building’s readers could stand more than 300 words, along with all the other stuff that goes into the newsletter.  I have no way of knowing how well or not well the newsletter is being received by the people of the building.  Nobody tells me.  I have to hear second-hand from Valerie or Jimmy, the people who work with me on the newsletter, when anyone says anything to them about it, which isn’t often.  Maybe I should conduct a survey and offer a prize, or something.  Nobody wants my George Forman grill when I offer to give it away, but perhaps if I make it an award, it will seem more attractive!

Again, I am not writing a masterpiece here.  I leave that to when I write something that I want to bother editing.

Until tomorrow.