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Dear Curious Reader,


This post serves as my "accountability partner." Sometimes said like this: "If you can't do the time, don't do the crime. (Or is it, don't do the crime, if you can't do the time?) Either way, you get the point. I'm very good at kidding myself about how much effort I make toward being successful and I'm very good at ripping myself to shreds thereby sabotaging my positive efforts. But it doesn't matter. My biggest challenge in life is overcoming myself.


Again, I don't see how this information might help you -- but -- maybe it will make you laugh. Maybe it will make you see how awesome YOU are. If I accomplish that for you, Dear Curious Reader - that would be a success.


If you choose to read this, you will get a rundown of my activities and choices regarding my writing, photography, language, and health goals --  (All of a sudden I feel like I am a 15-year-old offering to expose my sad little diary to the world -- I promise I won't add unnecessary drama).

Feel free to skip this page. Please. It's a "silly" thing for me to do as a way to maybe, maybe, be honest with myself.

welcome your constructive thoughts or suggestions.

The latest entries are at the top and the oldest at the bottom:

March 27, 2022 - Confession:

I finished my doggone script!  I entered it in four contests so far.  (There are only one or two more that I am considering entering at this point.) Yesterday, I threw out reams and reams of notes that I made during the process. It was illuminating.  I completely cleaned the docket of chaos and am prepped to start on a new story.  I am considering three stories -- either to start or revisit. -- Decisions, decisions.


March 17, 2022 - Confession: 

Yes — I see the date.

And yes, I see the previous date, the last time I made an entry on this page, or on my blog.

I can explain my great absence. If you are reading this post - God bless you and thank you.  

Perhaps this has happened to you: You make WONDERFUL plans, infinitely wonderful plans that in your mind as you come up with these plans, it seems all you have to do is say them, write them out in a list, highlight them in neon yellow, book mark it with red sticky tabs and Voila! It will, according to your Mighty Will, happen. 

Uh…nope.  The latter part of the scenario has yet to happen for me.  I think, I am starting to understand, the missing link in my plans.

My will is very small and insignificant compared to the will of God.  I forgot God.

Plus, it doesn’t help that I am such a dreamer.

Yes, I am one of those dreamers yo’ mama did tell you to avoid, kids. Beware the dreamer. Listen to some good blues songs — it’ll make clear the message you need to learn. 

I am one of those people, that if I were a man, I would definitely be tossed off as just a loser. Sexist comment? Yes. It’s one of the perks of being a woman. Because I’ve given birth and raised five decent human beings, I’m not an alcoholic or drug addict, there are some who say I’ve done well because I’ve been a good mom. (My kids may agree with the good mom statement many years from now when their memory starts to decline, but for now — let’s just assume I’ve been a good mom. I can honestly say I strived to be a good mother. But … My kids are the ones who will know the truth.

The point is — I generally get a pass about being a dreamer simply because I am a Mom  and my children have turned out all right — and because I am a woman. That’s sexist and that is true. Men do not get to use being a sire to their children as an excuse.  There’s no heroism given to men for making babies.  They must produce and provide FOR their children and if they are a dreamer and unable to produce and provide they are generally put in the category of louse. 

The excuse of being a mom as a reason for not accomplishing much has not done me any favors. 

But today, I return to this accountability pages to note that I finally finished the complete, from page one, with an entirely different character, with an entirely different vibe and feel — the blood and guts rewrite of my script that’s been dogging me since my great fall of 2015. 

I have gotten up at roughly 4 am every day, sometimes as early as 3 a.m. sometimes as late as 5 am — but still, I’ve gotten up every morning before anyone else in this tiny box we are living in to WRITE. Today was day #67 of my writing every single day. Including all the backstory long hand treatment and character deep dives, it took me 63 days to finish. I have less than 10 days to read it, correct it and fix all the errors before I send it in to the first contest deadline. 

Thank you for stopping by.... 


March 1st, 2021- Confession: 

- 5:30 am


Dates not listed mean my habits did not improve.


As I sat down to write, I was shocked to discover it is the first of March and still I fight myself. I know what is right. I know what I want. I know (somewhat) what I must do. But within a ten-minute window of lecturing myself, praying for answers, and "committing" to new ways, I sin against my convictions. Why?


If not now, when?

2-26 -21 - Confession:

Uh... okay. I failed to show up here, didn't I? My lack of attendance is EVIDENCE that I failed again. It's not as though I've slipped up so badly that I'm now addicted to methadone. Nor am I drunk and wallowing in self-pity playing my son's video games.

No -- but I've been very distracted from pursuing my "dream" life and instead, working on survival.


I interviewed for several jobs, two I thought I had in the bag. I was wrong. I was not hired. Finally, however, because a particular doctor's office was desperate, (had been through three different receptionists in less than six months) and they needed to get someone's butt in the chair immediately, I was hired. Yay. I completed my second week there, so far. I need to last until the middle of May (thereabouts) to get through my first 90 days.


The best thing about the job so far is that I work somewhat independently -- especially if I arrive ahead of anyone else in the morning -- and I get three days off. Perfect for photography and the many other things I need to get down right now.


#1 on the list: dump, sell, then pack as much stuff as possible so we can move our family into a 50% smaller dwelling before the end of March.  Go.


My diet? Don't ask. I haven't gained weight. But haven't lost weight either. C'est tout.

1-27-21 - Confession:

 -- I didn't record my diet as I intended. I was swayed and overcome by the emotion caused by going through all my books -- it's overwhelming. Truly. I broke down twice because this move is not what I wanted to do. Yet. I wanted to call my own shots. It's not that I didn't have the chance to do so. We didn't prepare as we should have, as we knew was should have. We may not have caused this -- but clearly, this situation is our own fault.

1-26-21 - Confession:

Yesterday (1-25-21) was a very rough day for our family. I did make one contact with a friend to take family portraits for her. She wants to do it and seems excited. Otherwise, yesterday was about figuring out how to survive, where to live, how to save money. The day was also rough because of a sad moment with my parents. Cancer, age, the economy, and their worries about us --








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