I didn't mean to be away from blogging for almost a week, but I have a good excuse. I was busy having a new insight into my personality.
A personal epiphany, as it were.
I realized I am not a middle-of-the-road kind of person. I kind of wish I were, but I'm not, and it's better to know these things.
It began when I spent Wednesday doing all of those errands that accumulate when one isn't sensible about such matters. Instead of doing errands one or two at a time, I let them pile up, so that the entire day is spent doing things like getting a haircut and going to the vet and doing some business at the bank and making some appointments and what-not. (I also had a very successful stop at the thrift store, in which I dropped off two plastic bins of stuff I could not stand to look at one more second and did not buy a single thing.)
Fortunately, the veterinarians' office is located across the road from the quilt shop, so I could reward myself for driving eight miles to buy The World's Most Expensive Cat Food for my diabetic cat with a visit to the quilt shop. And as I was getting out of the car, I had this flash of insight.
It had to do with my attire: your basic jeans and black sweater, over which I wore a black sweatshirt, and with which I wore some very cute plaid slip-on sneakers discovered (unworn) in my daughter's closet.
Let me add this: It is January in Central New York.
Let me emphasize: I was wearing only jeans, a sweater, a sweatshirt and my cute sneakers. Kind of what you'd wear, say, in May.
But I felt this mode of dress was entirely appropriate because I had spent the weekend wrapped in shawls next to the pellet stove, not daring to move lest I succumb to the below-zero temperatures. (Which were, of course, outside, and not endangering me in the least in my cozy house.)
The sweatshirt-and-sneakers look was my over-reaction to the fact that it wasn't snowing and the temperature had risen above 20 degrees. In fact, I had spent the day greeting various people like my hairdresser and veterinarian and the bank teller with an exuberant "Isn't it a fabulous day out there?" And people kind of looked at me curiously and were polite and said, um, yeah, sure.
And it occurred to me, as I walked through the snow-covered parking lot at the quilt store, that I over-react to everything. I'm not a dramatic person in the least (I think my friends would say), but I operate best on the edges. Buried under layers of clothes, then springtime garb. Consumed by work, then completely indolent.
(Not blogging for a week, and then posting The World's Longest Rambling Post.)
This insight was helped along by the fact that for the last several weeks, my brain has not been my own. I write for a regional magazine (which does not have an online presence or I would link you to it), and I had two extremely pleasant assignments. One was a column, which I do for every issue, and the other was a profile of the amazing and wonderful Amy Dickinson, of Ask Amy fame. (If you haven't read her book "The Mighty Queens of Freeville," you really must. Really, really, really must.)
Rather than treat these assignments as a person should, sensibly and professionally, I allowed them to consume my life. I permitted two straightforward articles (and it's not like I haven't been writing pretty much my entire professional life) to take over every aspect of my being. Writing them was the only thing I could think about. I went to sleep at night thinking of story structure. I woke up in the morning with random phrases rattling around my brain. I was making dinner the other night when a paragraph occurred to me, and I had to stop what I was doing to write it down. Despite the fact I had spent the whole day writing. Even when I followed my customary course - which is to finish a piece and let it sit for a day before taking one last read-through - I could not stop thinking about it.
This is what I do every time I write. Is it any wonder I approach these assignments with such dread? ("Yes! I'd love to! I'd love to have my life taken hostage for the next three or four weeks because that's the kind of personality I have!")
On the bright side:
I don't write for my own entertainment (except for here). I'm compensated fairly for my efforts. (The fact that I spend 600 hours obsessed with a piece, thus bringing my wage down to pennies per hour, is no fault of the magazine's staff.)
And when I am done, the relief is enormous. Like I imagine someone sprung from jail might feel. Or when the daylight returns to Alaska. I'm practically giddy.
(Heavens to Betsy, are you still reading? Bless your heart!)
On the down side:
Maybe I'd embrace experiences and opportunities more if I could approach them a little more moderately. Not just writing, mind you, but kind of everything.
So that's where my brain has been. I illustrated this post with extreme closeups of buttons, which always are popular (and I'm in the process of updating my Etsy shop.)
I think that's all I have to say. For the moment.
Does your cat eat DM food? My dibetic cat does but she WILL. NOT. EAT. the wet DM. Does you cat like the wet DM? I ask because I have most of a case and I'd be happy to send it along to you if your cat eats it.
Posted by: Poppy | January 28, 2011 at 11:12 AM
Hi, Poppy! My cat is pretty finicky, too. She eats the dry Royal Canin (or something like that) food - $50 for a big sack, ack - but the Friskies special diet canned food, so at least thats a little more affordable. Its really nice of you to offer it - I bet theres probably an animal shelter near you that would love to have it. Thanks for visiting! Barbara
Jan 28, 2011 10:12:46 AM, reply-3TDJ5JZQV43M_4L8A59VW57RF@typepad.com wrote:
A new comment from Poppy was received on the post Extreme of the blog Oodles and oodles. If you would like to post a reply to this comment you can do so at the following URL:
http://oodlesandoodles.typepad.com/my_weblog/2011/01/extreme.html?cid=6a00e5501c3f7d88330148c819f7b9970c#comment-6a00e5501c3f7d88330148c819f7b9970c
Comment:
Posted by: Barbara | January 28, 2011 at 11:42 AM
Still reading, because your pithy post feels a bit like a mirror being held up to my face. :) I so enjoy your witty rants. Send some of that snow to Oregon, would ya?.......Ciao, Maria w/Magia Mia
Posted by: MagiaMia | January 28, 2011 at 01:15 PM
I'm reading your post from snowy Ohio where I took a moment to ponder style while shopping at Beiler's this morning. Most women were wearing pants that were much too short (but DRY) and shoes that were downright UGLY (but who cares? they weren't ruined by all the slush and salt). Around almost every neck was a brightly colored and extremely fuzzy scarf. Thank heavens for whoever invented eyelash yarn! They've brightened a whole population of winter weary women.
Glad you could enjoy a moment of "spring"! Missed you!
Posted by: Tina | January 28, 2011 at 01:28 PM
Your epiphany gave me an epiphany, that I really get this whole post. Just last week I left the vet clinic and thought as I closed the door behind me that my voice seemed rather loud in there.
Glad you're back!
Posted by: Kate | January 28, 2011 at 02:13 PM
This is exactly why I like you so much, Barbara! You're not afraid to expose your extremities. I mean your extremes!
I've just come inside from sunning myself on the back porch. It's 31 and sunny with no wind. 31!! My neighbor saw me and came over to check on me because she thought I had maybe frozen to death out there. It IS a fabulous day!
Posted by: Carol @ Old Glory Cottage | January 28, 2011 at 02:28 PM
About allowing assignments to consume your life: Yes I do. In particular, things I've assigned to myself (those last three words would be in ital if I had that option). For me, it's part of a creative process, to obsess until I'm satisfied with the results although I'm sure those in the psychiatry field have another term for it.
Posted by: Into Vintage | January 28, 2011 at 02:34 PM
Very cute I think 2011 is a year of discovery~ Hugs, Diane
Posted by: Diane | January 28, 2011 at 03:34 PM
Can commiserate with you on all levels here. I felt the same way when it hit the freezing mark here -- amazing what a little perspective will do for you. Glad you're back and in fine form! And I read "The Mighty Queens..." while in Bouckville this year!
Posted by: Gina at Vintage Junk in My Trunk | January 28, 2011 at 03:38 PM
I relate so enthusiastically to your thoughts about obsessing over the writing work. I used to have a little drapery business wherein I'd take a job, "sure I can do that," and then grumble horrendously throughout the entire thing. As soon as I was handed payment, however, I'd turn to my husband and brightly say, "that wasn't so bad...." wherein he just shook his head and took me to dinner.
I love your blog :)
Amy
Posted by: Amy | January 28, 2011 at 06:17 PM
Still reading and chuckling here and there. Glad the articles are finished and perhaps you will come back to blogland to entertain. Wish we had a bit of that snowy weather here...
Posted by: laurie magpie ethel | January 28, 2011 at 06:51 PM
Writing from northeast Indiana, where snow is mounded up alongside walks, but streets are relatively clear. Just slushy. The sun was out today after several days of gloom, and I nearly flew out in just my 1) jeans, 2) cotton blouse, 3) fur-lined vest (not sure what fur; it looks like road kill, and 4) short boots.
Heat wave! Spring!
NOT.
I bowed under to a wintry blast that smacked me on the front porch, and donned heavy twill coat before leaving.
So, yeah, I relate. As a writer who actually has a current assignment, I also TOTALLY relate to the 24/7 obsession about same. Yes, my friend, we ARE O/C. Maybe no Monk, jumping over cracks and washing our hands eleventy-hundred times, but O/C all the same.
Somehow, I suspect you knew that. ;-)
Keep the blogs coming. Love reading your work.
cj
Posted by: ndfan | January 28, 2011 at 07:39 PM
You "ramble" better than anyone I know! I should have known you write professionally. I could tell. I tend to have your personality. But exuberance for everything (or you could look at it as never being close to moderate on ANYTHING) has its rewards!
Brenda
Posted by: Brenda Kula | January 28, 2011 at 07:57 PM
So glad you are back! I've missed your ramblings! :)
Posted by: Retromamaramblings.blogspot.com | January 28, 2011 at 11:17 PM
Oh, I'm sorry, I got distracted... could you repeat that?
Posted by: judy | January 28, 2011 at 11:46 PM
I love to hear what is going on inside your head. You put the words together with such joyful visualization. My thoughts consume me too. BTW, love the buttons..
Posted by: Aunt Barbie | January 29, 2011 at 07:12 AM
I can totally relate to this! I am a terrible multitasker because I throw myself into whatever I'm doing so much that I can't think about anything else. We all must be thinking alike-I am planning on hitting the food store today without a coat or snowboots :)
Posted by: bonnie | January 29, 2011 at 11:32 AM
No wonder I like you so much, I think we are related some how... Hi, Cuz!!
Posted by: karla | January 30, 2011 at 02:48 PM