I was on a call today about promoting my book. You know the one, the only one, Finally Florida. Which led me to look at Goodreads, which led me to update my Books Read page which led me to the fact that I have an Author page which showed me that this blog is connected to Goodreads so it automatically posts on my Goodreads Author page. I have been so absent from writing that I forgot all about that. I’ve obviously forgotten all about the fact that I’ve been a writer. Well, I haven’t really forgotten it. It’s in the back of my mind, always. And I have my book on a table in the middle of the room so every time I walk by it I see it and remember, oh yea, I did that. For awhile I was working on subsequent books and then the Jars happened.
I have been utterly consumed with decorating Jars. In the spiritual world (assuming like everything is connected to everything else) I have no frickin idea how decorating jars would be connected to writing. Other than they are both creative endeavors and Julia Cameron (author of the Artist’s Way) would be very proud of me for expanding my creative self. But it doesn’t help sales of my book. Nor does it expand my goal of writing more books. So today I made a date with two other authors to see what they do to promote themselves and to try and get back to the writer that I am. I mean even Patrick hasn’t sent me a reminder to blog in MONTHS. MONTHS! But I am determined to revive myself as the wannabe writer than I am, or was, or am going to be again.
There is so much happening in my life since retirement. Sometimes I want to cry because I’m so busy and I really long for those beach days when I just grabbed a chair and sat on the beach and read a book. I had no (or minimal) friends in the Florida area so I was not making plans for lunches or dinners as I do now. It’s no one’s fault but my own. I love my friends and I want to see them and I see a free day on my calendar and bam I have a lunch planned. That’s how it starts you know. Then while I’m on the phone catching up with someone who I haven’t had lunch with I start painting a jar. I am a multi-tasker at heart. Often times when on the phone I’ll start dusting. I got that idea from Peggy a long long time ago. I dusted today while talking on the phone. I don’t have any more jars to paint at the moment. I need to go buy some more. But now my adorable, beautiful apartment is littered with jars and napkins (that’s what I decorate the jars with, napkins). So anyway, how is a girl supposed to find the time to write? Oh wait, and then I thought, financially I should probably get a part time job because well I always knew I’d have to support myself in addition to Social Security right? And although I had hoped that my book would be an overnight success and then I’d be this sought after author, well, it hasn’t happened, yet. And when I started decorating these jars it never occurred to me to sell them. It only occurred to me to sell them because I was making too many and had no idea what to do with them. So I decided to try and sell them. That venture has just begun so whether it becomes lucrative or not is yet to be seen.
But, so, work, yea, I called a temp agency and at first there was no response. Was that the Universe telling me no need to go down that path? But then I doubled down and called again and this time there was a response and then they found a job that was supposed to be one day and going forward I would only be called in when the other woman called off. Well, after the first day, “can you come back on Wednesday?” So I was like “sure.” Then it was “can you stay longer?” I agreed to two days a week, 11 am – 3 pm. That was their hours set, not mine, but it worked for me. Then they called and asked if I would work 3 days a week instead of two. Wasn’t this just supposed to be filling in for the full-time person who I was in there supplementing for when she called off? After a long call with Diane who said “you need to set boundaries” – I pulled myself up and stuck to my guns. Two days. That’s it. That’s my boundary.
Okay then it was two days from 11 am – 3 pm. The very next day, “can you stay until 5?” Okay fine, and then when I go into the office the very next day, keep in mind this is like my 4th day in the office, they tell me the other girl has now quit. For gawd’s sake. BUT I stick to my guns and no I will not work 3 days. NO. Then “well can you come in tomorrow?” (it was for a Thursday) and I said “nope, it’s mom day and she takes priority, sorry”. I mean what have I gotten myself into? Why can’t they leave me alone? The curse of doing a good job.
There are a couple of things I do like about the work. Like there’s an electric typewriter still in use. I, for some reason, find this so much fun when I get to use the typewriter. It’s so nostalgic and it all comes rushing back to me, those days of long ago before keyboards and computers.
I bought an electric typewriter once for my mom, when she was living in Virginia. I can’t remember if she was blind already when I bought it. I might have thought that the memory of typing could be fun for her but I can’t remember the “when” of when I got it for her. I do remember she gave it away and it broke my heart. But if she was blind I can certainly see why. I mean really, she could type but she couldn’t read it back. What’s the use? But I can read things back. Perhaps typing a book on a typewriter would be fun. Hmmm, maybe there’s a spark of something there. Hmm Hmm Hmm.
Let’s see, other aspects of working, well I don’t really mind it. It’s full of tasks and to-do lists and well it’s not a bad thing. It’s only a couple blocks up the street so I am getting exercise when I walk there. There’s a Target on the way home so I can run in and get something to eat for the walk home (for dinner) if needed. The whole working thing makes me feel a little younger actually when I leave at 5 with the rest of the workers I weirdly feel a little young again. So there are some emotional plusses to this work-a-day thing. It’s just that I want to go away. I want to go back to Virginia for a long weekend and well if I have to work on a Monday how does that work? I shouldn’t have to worry about this work business when I’m in retirement. So I’m a little perplexed as to how it fits in the bigger picture. My mom day (I go help with mom) is on Thursday or I could travel on a Thursday-Sunday thing. I guess I could move Mom to Tuesday one week, work Monday, Mom Tuesday, work Wednesday and then go Thursday-Sunday.. But I just hate to accommodate stupid work. See? I have authority issues.
Isn’t this just like me? Rambling on and on with just brain dumping. I mean it’s just so me. And why have I forsaken myself (and my writing) for all these months? I’ll tell you why. Jars! Honestly Jars!
I love my Jars. I’ve done one Flea Market (no sales, not one) and one 2-day “Fair in the Woodlands” which wasn’t a huge success but also not a failure. I’m hoping to do another flea market tomorrow and then I have a few craft shows in September and more to come in the fall. There’s a lot to learn about all this and I am really enjoying all of it. I do kinda wish, in my dream head, that I just had a store front to put them in instead of lugging all this stuff around to craft shows. Especially since my car is parked ½ block away in the city and loading and unloading is a challenge. I’m up to the challenge but wouldn’t it be easier just to plop them in a storefront, and I live in the back of the store? LOL. And people just come in and take what they want. I honestly don’t even care if I sell them I just want them out of my house because I make too many! But I might as well sell them.
Okay this has gone on long enough. If anyone at all reads this then that will be a miracle. But not as much as the miracle I am feeling in writing it again. It’s all coming back to me. I can be a writer AND a jar maker, a candlestick maker and baker. But not a butcher.
Hmmm, maybe I’ll make some chocolate chip cookies.
Xoxoxo