Stream of Consciousness Sunday: In the Trenches

OK, I'm going to try this one today.  I know some of you may be thinking "Hey, isn't her whole blog kind of stream of consciousness, so what's the big difference?"  Ha!  So, not.  If you know me, you know how I re-think and over-think everything, work and overwork these posts most of the time.  I know it's against the "free wheeling spirit of blogging" but in keeping with my cranky, perfectionist self, so let it be.

Sometimes the posts just flow out of me start to finish, but those have been the ones wrenched from the depths of pain, usually right around a death.  So I'm thankful to say, they haven't been flowing like that lately.  Instead, at this point I have seven (7 !) almost-finished-but-not-quite-there posts and another dozen half-done, underdone, overdone-in-need-of-trimming, or sketched-out-but-bare-bones posts just siting in my cue, mocking me.

And I so want to get out the old wheat-paste and slap something up on my blog tonight, because I have become kind of fond of having become a frequent poster.   I know how I can be once I let stuff slip, it keeps on going down the slope, picking up speed and then?  Splat.  I don't want this blog to become another road-kill in my life.

When I re-stumbled upon all.things.fadra's Stream of Consciousness Sunday linky again tonight I thought: Why the hell not?  So here I am giving it a shot.

The rules are simple:

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spell-checking. This is writing in the raw.

Gulp.  OK, here goes:


I am quaking in my boots about filling this page with five minutes worth of stream of consciousness writing. It's because right now I am so far from my shining best.  I am hunkered down, deep in survival mode. I am not sure I want to own what spews out of me right now.  Jacob had a lovely day with his father; at the movies and then visiting his new baby cousins.  I got a beautiful e-mail from their Dad telling me how wonderful, loving and related Jake was with the babies.  I, on the other hand was in full-on battle mode with Ethan over writing homework.

Writing homework: the bane of my fucking existence last year hasn't really come up much tihs year or been much of a problem. Until now.  Big project due tomorrow, begun today in spite of all his teacher's admonitions to NOt wait until the last minute.  Begun today because I just didn't have the mom-balls to push him to start it sooner, because I knew that as soon as it started we were going to have a mother-loving world war three scene like we did today with the screaming and the crying and the throwing of objects and. I. just. couldn't. face.it.  Not now, not with all the other shit flying through my life.

So its due tomorrow and its only half done. SIX hours of heart & gut wrenching struggle to get him to write eight sentences. Shoot Me now. Because tomorrow?  we have to finish the sucker, or die trying.

*****

 
Wow, that was a fast 5 minutes.  This is going to take every ounce of self control I have to not go back and fix that "tihs".  Also?  All the naggy little voices are telling me its not "good enough" to publish.  But isn't that what this exercise is all about, just write & hit the button?

OK, being brave... please be gentle with me.  Ack!