Maybe One Day

I say this, maybe one day, for many different reasons.

Let's see maybe one day I'll be able to get this butt injury healed and workout again. Oh sure I can work my upper body, but as I lay in bed last night pondering over what this day would bring, I remembered how my days (obsessively) revolved around exercising. I thought, I'll get up and work my upper body like crazy, then this very vivid, very scary image entered my mind. The dog, can't remember his name, you know the cartoon character one. The one always chained to the dog house, usually sleeping until Jerry (Tom's friend/enemy) ran past him. Remember him? Well he was all upper body and nothing at the bottom. I pictured myself as HIM and it was not a pretty picture. Although, with this Boom, Boom, Pow I got going on in the lower half, I know I would never resemble that Bulldog or whatever he is, I decided not to focus on just my upper body. Let it go Wendy, just let it go for now.

Can't do cardio either. So what the H, E, double toothpick am I supposed to do. Can't work. Can't paint the house like I really need to and have on my very long to-do list. Can't keep cooking like I have been because just last night I made, oh so good smelling, strawberry cupcakes. I felt like a psych patient, wringing my hands trying to keep my hands, mouth and every other body part off of them. You know how crazy you can get when you have cravings, by the way. Anyway, I would icing one, then walk away. Icing another, then walk away. At least I got two dozen worth of walking away in for exercise. Still not enough. Patience, I know. I KNOW. But I don't have much. Lord help me.

Calmed myself eventually, and found a small fragment of patience yesterday. Decided to pull out my old manuscript of a novel I wrote five years ago. You know, thinking I'd get myself back into something I really enjoyed. Something I would do that would not require further injury to my butt. However....and you knew there would be a however, as I started reading it, I got so into the story that I couldn't work on revisions. The whole D, A, M as in Mary, N as in Nancy reason I walked away from that so many years ago!

So now what am I supposed to do. Because I just don't know!

All I know is that I have way too much time on my hands and I need to find some frigg... How the heck is that spelled anyway, or pronounced for that matter. So many different versions of it, frickin', friggin' (which I suppose is the less offensive version), freakin' or what. I don't know, so that one I won't use.

So what have I realized today? Well, I'll tell ya.

One day I will die, most likely with the same size Boom Boom Pow, Be donk e donk, little-in-the-middle-but-she's-got-much-back, as I have now, no matter how hard I work at it. And long after I'm dead and buried my great grandkids, one of whom will be an editor at Harper Collins or some big house like that, will find my manuscript, edit it, and I'll be the next big DEAD thing.

What a dream...

As Always, thanks for stopping by.

Back to blogging, I suppose.

I hopped on over to this blog to find that I haven't posted here in almost 4 years. Don't ask why, but since the secret will eventually spill I'll tell you. I was held hostage by bears in the caves of a long lost place, where I ate raw fish with yucky scales and had my long green hair brushed by bear claws daily. By the way, thinking of franchising the concept, although dangerous. I rode on the backs of whales to get to and fro while waiting for life to come snatch me back. Anyway, I'm a liar and here is the real reason. Or so, I don't have any REAL reason, so never mind.

So, a little over a week ago I hurt my butt ice skating. Not really my butt but more of an avulsion of my ishial tuberosity (which surely no one really cares to know). I know, I know. Did God not warn me about what I should and shouldn't do over the age of 40. Anyway, back in the day I was an awesome roller skater so I figured how hard would it be? Besides, my 7-year-old wanted to try. I was actually pretty amazing at it. Well, not really, but I did well. We were skating along, wind whipping past us as those hockey playing wanna be's flew by. Then those God awful teeth on the front of the blade grabbed the ice thrusting my leg into the air in an attempt prevent an ugly fall. Didn't work so well, because of course I fell, ever so gracefully I might add. Thing is, I felt something 'go pop' just before my P90X tended to gluteus maximus met with the ice. Needless to say I'm restricted from exercise at this time and have decided to get back to writing.

Believe me this is not the only reason for rediscovering my need to indulge in my lifelong dream, I really love and miss it. Don't know why I let going back to collage, getting a new career and raising my kids get in the way, because I know that writers with a TRUE passion refuse to let anything get in their way.

Now, I will do my best to try and find those magic fingers that allow those long awaited words to bleed out onto the keyboard and seep into the minds of others', or at least out of the mind of my own.

Have a nice day and please be careful of the ice.