I gotta be me

Today I am reading Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout. It is exceptionally well written and a stunning insight into the human condition. It is also extremely painful to endure. Rarely does anyone write in such a way that I am forced to pace myself through the chapters. I take breaks in between to sit and absorb them as much as catch my breath.

That’s why I’m here with you. I’m taking a break before I go under the water again.

The book, as well as one comment, also very well written, has me doing a little thinking. (That is often a little scary, too.) But here’s the bottom line: if it freaks you out, don’t read me. I simply refuse to be responsible for your next breakdown.

Now with that declaration I will go on to explain how much fun it is to be me. I mean it. Who else is so wacky as to thoroughly disappoint a progressive that she puts me in the same category as Fred Dooley! (Hugs to Fred. I’ve actually decided I rather like him.) In contrast, it wasn’t but a few days ago that Jim Wigderson declared his contempt. (Praise be to the heavens that clever girl didn’t say I was like Wigderson instead.)

I could bop away to this tune:

(Actually. I just did. Was that a great time for music or what?) Anyway, instead I will remind you how really marvelous it is to be me. (I almost found you another song, but you were spared. Don’t Cry for Me Argentina came to mind.) I will also thank you for showing up now and then to see what’s going on in my head.

Hugs and stuff. For real!

Cindy

Comments

  1. “I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. And doggone it, Fred Dooley likes me.”

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ldAQ6Rh5ZI

  2. Yes, I’m one of the lucky ones MIlton.

  3. Headline:

    DO-NOTHING HOUSEWIFE FALLS MADLY IN LOVE WITH SELF; RANDY FROM RICHMOND HEARTBROKEN; READERS VOMIT