I am a Zealot

I am such a spazzy little gal. I get myself into trouble that way. Sometimes it helps, mostly it just makes me hasty. On occasion, I will be present for some travesty, like, say, Bryan comes home and says,”Aren’t you ready?” For what? I may ask, only to be told that we are meeting the corporate honchos from another country in 45 minutes and it’s their kids birthday.  Now, when you have forgotten to give me warning, or when a catastrophe has hit, you need a spazzy girl. I can bathe, dress, and launch three small children into 5 point harnesses, while calling a sitter and pulling out of my driveway. I can call ahead for a prewrapped gift to pick up on my way to said party and handle my hair and make up at stop lights. Sometimes spazzy=good. Also, it makes me more fun. For example, I will never, ever, ever turn down an impromptu invitation to take off somewhere. My kids love the unpredictability, and with me, its often unpredictable.

Now that I feel all warm, I will point out the down side of spazzy. I hate to wait. Love to plan, hate to wait. I will enter writing contests on a whim. That’s not a great way to win.  I will begin querying without proper research , or a fully polished manuscript. (I really have to hold my own reigns on that). I will eat that 9×13 of brownies. Don’t leave them if you want them. They are already gone.

I also do embarrassing things like register online and pay through paypal for a writers conference which is not taking reservations for another 2 weeks. Hey, then, I will even come on here and blog about how I registered. Yep. I did that. I got the email today letting me know that they will submit my reservation in July, when it is acceptable.

Around my way, I’ve been called a few things. High octane is one that fits. It’s nice to get things done and it feels great to be so inflated all the time, but I am learning that this is not a great trademark for a writer. So, picture me taking a few deep breaths, closing my eyes, stepping away from the laptop, and running full speed into my room where I will proceed to talk my husbands ear off until he shuts me up. What can I say. You have to take the good with the bad.

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