We Have Become Those People
Those people who always have too much shit going on!
A couple days after the launch thingy for Sex & Violence, I woke up feeling like I was dying. Like, in so much pain I wished for death. It turned out I needed to go to the hospital and have my gallbladder removed, because it was inflamed and rioting and full of stones the size of grapefruit.
Well, not really, but all bad medical stories involve things ‘the size of grapefruit.’
So that sucked. And now I’m hobbling around a bit and feeling sheepish because a) I hate the word ‘gallbladder’ so bad b) what an Old Lady Problem to have: “Back in 2013, when I had my gallbladder removed…”
In two days, the roof gets torn off and we get a new one. We’ve got scads of people coming to help us (more of Adrian’s brothers, more professionals, more friends). I teach a class at the Loft Teen Writers Conference next week. My dog needs to hit the vet and everyone needs their teeth cleaned, now that the mister has a new job with health and dental insurance.
(Adrian is pretty much the most bitchin husband ever, yall. BITCHIN. He used to drive a Trans Am, I’ll have you know.)
Also, I have a bunch of other deadlines for blog posts and some other writing junk that I must attend to, a syllabus to make, etc. Blog posts about Sex & Violence, like this one and this one, have been really fun to write, but they are another out-of-the-ordinary job I’m not used to doing. And I worry about those posts so much! I want to make them worth the blogger/reviewer’s time and effort. I mean, people have book blogs and review sites and they read tons of books and write lengthy, thoughtful reviews but they do not get paid. They do it because they love reading! It’s really astonishing and beautiful. And this needs to be respected.
Then I have to make Matilda’s Halloween costume (which she’s changed concepts for at least six times now) and somehow decorate the yard for Halloween, as our block is pretty all-out about Halloween celebrations. Then, one second after Halloween, I need to fly to Las Vegas for the Vegas Valley Book Festival, which I’ve attended twice now, but this year I’m on an actual panel, which is cool. Mostly I just want to chill in Las Vegas with my homegirls Melinda and Kari, however. Being with my friends in a place that is warm/sunny in the dread month of November has become a tradition I look forward to quite a bit.
Also, it’s not until December, but I’m a dork about prepping for things, so I have these two Loft classes I need to prepare for, as well.
Now I’ve become one of those “I AM SO BUSY EVERYONE BOW DOWN TO MY BUSY SLEEPLESSNESS” barfy people. Sorry. I hope that stops soon myself.
My father expects me to attend some weird thing at his church this weekend. But I’m not going, because a) it involves church b) he was a prick at my launch event. I think it’s weird that the thing that would upset me the most about my launch event wouldn’t be my nerves about public readings or my dislike of going to parties where there are lots of people but the man who sired me. I guess it just goes to show that parental disapproval knows no bounds. The man’s not getting invited to anything in the future where I read stuff I wrote, I’m telling you that. Since he made it clear long ago that he’ll never read Sex & Violence, I’m not quite sure why he bothered to attend in the first place.
It probably goes without saying, but this incident is worse to me than people saying daft/mean things in reviews. At least bad reviews are something you can prepare for, ask your friends advice about. Never heard of any writing books that have chapters titled “What To Do When Your Family Members Are Pricks At Public Events.”
I can say all this because a) he doesn’t like much I do, anyway, b) he never reads my blog. Or goes online. He just leaves me disgruntled voicemail messages about how I never call him. Huh. Big mystery as to why, right?
While taking my afternoon pain med and lounging in bed, I had a rare phone conversation with my friend Meagan. I said I was looking forward to things becoming boring again. But I think this year, we are in for a whole lot of interesting. And while I like that, it kind of makes me nostalgic for simpler times, when we had walls and a roof and a sofa I could park my ass on with my fearful dog and just read the latest issue of Men’s Health without feeling like I was leaving something undone.
Mainly, however, I am struck with the larger concern, which is what snack foods to procure/prepare by this Sunday, October 13, at 8 pm Central Standard Time, when Season 4 of The Walking Dead premieres on AMC, thus launching me deeper into Daryl Dixon’s grimy pockets. My Reedus Virus: it’s gonna get worse before it gets better. So, I’ll be live-tweeting that shit so hard, yall. CANNOT WAIT.