Accents and Elimination

This cyber-shrink stuff is already effective! I have identified a trend in my thinking after only five posts. I seem to only describe myself by what I am NOT! I am not an electrician. I am not smart. I am not a writer, and I'm definitely not a clown.

Now, for analysis: 1) I may not know who I am. Perhaps I am whittling down all of the possibilities until I exhaust what I'm not and see what is left. 2) Most of what I have listed in the "not" category are things I fear. Electricity can cause fires, which I have feared since a family friend's house burned down in the late 70's. I fear smart because it's laden with responsibilities and commitments. I fear clowns because, well, doesn't everybody? If this theory holds true, then I can also say with confidence that I am not a bear, I am not in a small closet, and I am not Barack Obama.

For my therapy I self-prescribe some good, old-fashioned positive thinking. I hereby commit - well, let's not go that far - will try to describe myself in the affirmative.

I am exhausted.

My husband is alert and responsive

Yesterday's blog got some bad reviews on the home front. Seems some don't like to be portrayed as heavy in the eye-lid region. The good news is, we "communicated" about it.

I'm not smart after all

I was really tired last night. Which may explain why I suddenly got the urge to take a free on-line IQ test.

I should have realized no good would come of it when the first thing I read - in bold print- was that this was a timed test. I'm not good at timed. I don't like to be pressured into decision making. I like to reflect, analyze...stall if need be.

Ignoring the warnings, I clicked start and...stalled. Ok, so I didn't know the first question immediately. Surely they got easier!

I started rolling along when my husband, who had been dozing next to me, rolled as well. "What are you doing?" Now, call me insecure, but quite frankly I didn't want to reveal my current employ. He may go on about Spam, or internet security or some such. Heck, an on-line IQ test could give him enough material for an hour or more, and this was a timed test.

I did the only thing I could think of at the time. Minimize. "Oh, not much." I answered very casually. I started sweating a bit, realizing that the seconds were hastily ticking by. We engaged in small talk for a minute or two, until his eyelids grew heavy again. Usually, this is not a desired reaction during marital "communicating", but believe me, I was fine with it at the time.

Maximizing again, I tried to finish strong. But remember that I was very tired. If two typists can type two pages in five minutes, then how many typists does it take to type twenty pages in ten minutes? Now, in the light of day, the answer is alarmingly simple. Last night, it seemed like Environmental Chemistry. (Yes, I did take that class, and it ruined my 4.0 GPA. Environmental Chemistry is akin to electricians in my book.)

I wasn't pleased with the results. Apparently I'm not as smart as I always thought I was. One of my finer qualities; however, is my Weeble-like response to crisis. Pulling myself up by my rounded bottom, I saw the silver lining: a new excuse.

"I'm sorry, I really don't see how I can take on another fund-raising event for the school, I'm not really all that smart." "Start my Honors Thesis? Isn't that just for smart people?" "Find a witty conclusion to my blog? That's a job for 10 other typists."

The Deplorable Word

If you are a Narnia fan (which everyone should be), then you are familiar with the concept of the Deplorable Word from the Magician's Nephew. Now that word would destroy like the entire planet. With nothing that melodramatic in mind, the deplorable word that keeps me up at night, that echoes in the recesses of my brain after I've had another one of my really great ideas, that threatens me every time I pick up a pen (or keyboard) to write is: "TRITE!".

I first encountered the word in Mrs. Harter's tenth grade English class. The larger the word was scrawled across the top of your paper, the lower your grade. I made it my personal mission to "write to avoid the trite".

Like the Instant Grow Sponge pills of the 80's, this fear of trite swelled to absorb other areas of my life. What if my career choice, or lack of one, was trite? What if the color scheme for my house was trite? What if my children's names were trite? What if my interests were trite? What if my whole life is trite?

An imposing grey tombstone comes to mind with Mrs. Harter's decisive script engraved across the smooth surface: TRITE!

In lucid moments I can see that my fear of amounting to nothing more than trite paralyzes me into almost guaranteed tritedom. So I'm blogging to communicate my fears to the swarming vacancy of the Internet in an attempt to overcome them. How trite.

What about Bob?

When you are 63, you are supposed to be near the pinnacle of life. You should be planning the big career exit strategy. You should be polishing up your legacy and buying accessories to match the gold watch.

Not so for my dear friend Robert. He, at the unemployable age of 63, was given the boot this week.

I find myself in awe of the lack of scruples it would take to decide to lay off someone two years from retirement. How would that board room conversation go? "Well, Steve, we could save 1% if we cut old Bob." "Excellent, Joe. That's a great solution to our expenses glut. I'm giving you a 5% raise!"

I am not an electrician

Perhaps you thought from the name of this blog that I would be able to impart some information about circuits and wiring. Alas, you are sadly mistaken. Actually, I am not overly fond of electricians. Bad past experiences.

I am not an electrician. I am not a writer. I do, however, need an outlet. As my husband aptly said, all women do. My life revolves around Church, home and work. Each of these venues is fulfilling and meaningful, but also frustrating and mundane at times. So, this blog will act as my cyber-shrink - a bit of couch for the byte of life. (Told you I wasn't a writer.)

I don't expect many guests, I'm not even good with large parties. But if you happen by from time to time you'll find a woman who loves Truth and seeks it passionately, struggles with over-analysis and thus decision making, and is determined to overcome weaknesses - without any need for wire strippers.