I would love to order a shrink wrap in a diner to talk me through all my worries.

That’s what I call soul food. 😉

A tweet tossed into the universe, written on whim, receives an avalanche of attention.

Words deliberately constructed in definitive intention and purpose often float by without recognition. I am the audience of one.

Is there a lesson here? Write more. Think less?

I want to thank all my fellow friends and writers for pacing in unity waiting for a thumbs up or down in the Erma Bombeck essay writing competition.

Today, I learned I made it to the top round and into the finals. Not a winner. I’m good to go with that. Best words shared: “Darn close.”

What a wonderful, almost-perfect ending.
I hear Erma whispering the echo of words, once told to her, now in my ears: “You go, girl. You can write.”

Personal Rejection. The next best thing to Being There. 😉

I was not born this way. I shy from anything technical. But a writer has to do what a writer has to do. Hours upon hours talking with a Microsoft customer service representative led to more dead ends than my fried hair in summer.

And then.

4:40 am. A few hours ago. You can call me an IT Girl. Call me THAT GIRL. Call me… a heroine! I plugged away and changed settings and searched online for self-help and Eureka! The State of the Union is… WORKING.

This is a dream come true for an English major. I get happy changing high hat light bulbs. Success is a poem, not IMAP or POP protocols.

I did it!

I am having immense snafus setting up a new computer. I was on the phone with Microsoft for many hours Sunday and then, as I suspected, the call ended when the remote technician tried to move me into the email department. Windows Live was my old standard go-to but it doesn’t seem to be available anymore for downloads or support. Outlook (part of Office 365 in Microsoft) has Outlook but I have bled my fingers to the bone trying to set that service up for my regular email (RossWord) to no avail. I don’t like gmail for my default email system. I placed a call to my internet provider at approximately 3 AM. She told me to come back after 7 AM.
What do you use as subject titles in test emails to yourself?
My last one was called SHUT UP.
It gets ugly at 3 AM and you start wondering whether anything you do is right.

How many times did I change passwords today because old ones were too new for re-use and g-d I hate the ones I chose in haste. I should know words. I have run out of memorable passwords.
Now singing:
“What good is sitting alone in your room…” ;>

So. Yes.
Frustrating. It is 6:30 AM. I am still awake from Sunday.
I gave myself permission to cry.
I just listened to old voicemails
from my mom and dad from 2018 and 2019.
That hurt.

Call me,
A Glutton for Punishment

Ideas in the middle of the night.

We have to stop meeting like this.

www.facebook.com/1240064912/posts/10221315257891187/

If you are here,

not merely passing through

from post to post,

please know:

You light up my life.

(Back to say: Edit that. This message is for anyone I’m lucky enough to call a friend. I realize not everyone can sing or dance at every party. If you are here, that’s all I need. I know you’re out there.)

Happy First Night of Chanukah.

Words matter.

We share words.

They are the light.

Great miracles happen here.

This is a test. I want to share these posts on Facebook and vice versa.

I own this place
but I am an absentee landlord

letting dust squat in every corner of every room
I would not want to visit here either, if I were you

So fair warning to the invisible tenants of this page:
I will knock first

But I need to show you who is boss
and I need to type my way through the front door

“I’m talking here!”

You talk, too. What’s on your mind?