Safe to say, the hardest part of any project is getting started. As this is my first blog post, I feel I should do some sort of introduction: who I am, a little bit about me, kind of a social resume that should give some inclination as to why this and future blogs written by me are worth reading. As a writer, I have always found it best to simply wait and think for the proper inspiration. Even during timed tests, this approach works for me.
However. There is the chance that, since I started my “thinking” over two years ago, perhaps I’m merely procrastinating. So, instead of a formal introduction, I think it would be more expedient to simply tell the story of how I finally put pen to paper.
One of the best lessons to learn in this life or any other is the accomplishment of breaking unproductive patterns. I have found, very, VERY predictably, that when Life wants me to do something, It doesn’t stop until I cry “uncle” and make with the compliance. For example, I got my college degree with a major in English and a minor in Education (considering the workload for that minor, it should be called a double major, but I digress). As I approached graduation, my aunt, a special educator approaching retirement and one of my all time favorite people, gave me some advice. “Megan, go into special education. That is where the money is, because that is where job security is. That’s where the security is because that is the branch that will not only never go away, it’s getting bigger every day and no one wants to do it.” She repeatedly said this.
To which I repeatedly replied: “You know, I just can’t. I just know that it’s beyond my abilities to work day in and day out having my heart broken by working with people that I can’t really help or make better. I just can’t do it.”
Bill Cosby once said that God has a sense of humor. I’ll meet that sense of humor and raise Bill the addition of God also having an “Oh yeah?” attitude. Word of advice: unless you’re ready for a karmic lesson, NEVER inform the universe that you “can’t” do something. Apparently, there is a Heavenly department that specifically handles such challenges and efficiently, cheerfully, BITCHSLAPS whoever is foolish enough to hurl them.
My older son likes Kermit the Frog. He will be, henceforth, known on this blog as Kermit.
Kermit is eleven years old. He has a remarkably dry, sarcastic sense of humor, an uncanny knack for psychic perception, big blue eyes that simultaneously convey the most innocent “Who me?” along with the devil’s wiseass smirk...and autism.
I name the autism last because while it’s predictably the second thing folks notice about him (the first being those gi-normous baby blues), it is probably the least remarkable thing about him. To be honest, it is really more like the frame story, the back information that ensures that the rest of the tale makes sense.
You see, Life wanted me to work in special education. It gave me many gentle opportunities to work in this field (my aunt being only one of many people who tried to hook me on SPED (SPecial EDucation)). If it’s not clear already, now would be the time to point out that I have a very strong personality. I have also been frequently accused of stubbornness. After many, many assertions of being unable to do the work Life had planned for me, my file got transferred to Heaven’s Oh Yeah? Department. Also known as the OY (pronounced “oy” as in, “oy vey”) Department. When the OYs got a hold of my dossier, they decided that the only way to get my butt in this field was to send me a very cute, very intelligent, very badass little enforcer. Naturally, being Heaven, they had the perfect man for the job. When Kermit signed up – I got knocked up. So. One can look at the process, and see the progression from gentle hints, forceful suggestions, and Cosmic Smack.
I now have a healthy respect for the OY department. They, in turn, have made allowances for my ADD, sending many little hints, including, but not limited to: my sister, Mena, moving in with me (and starting her daily harangue of how I need to start blogging), getting “let go” because my boss (in SPED, no less) wanted me to get a “grown up job” and now…
Autism has lots of little quirky side effects that don’t make the made-for-TV movies. Lately, my personal favorite (said with intense sarcasm) is the disruption of sleep patterns. Unfortunately for Kermit (and ME), one of the other little quirks is his inability to be awake and quiet at the same time.
So, when we woke for the DAY today at 12:30 a.m., I was not amused. I tried to fall back asleep, but true to my ADD fueled chronic insomnia, I found myself riding on several speedboats racing through several white water rapids of consciousness (the streams are for sissies). Every once in a while, these splash courses will smack me with an epiphany or two. As fate would have it, today is one of those days. The epiphany? With regard to my writing, the OY department is getting antsy. Since daily hints and unemployment weren’t enough, I am now not allowed to sleep until I get crackin’ on my writin'.
Trust me when I say that this got my attention. The OY department does NOT play. I really do believe, in my heart of heart, in my soul of soul, that if I don’t start writing, some calamity will fall. Oh yeah, I said calamity. And true to my life, it will involve twists, irony, humor and only God knows what else. Like getting trapped in a soundproof room with limited oxygen and Nikki Sixx for company, and our only tool for escape is my computer, and the only thing that will save us (and impress one of my all time favorite writers/artists/celebrity personalities) is my ability to blog our way to safety.
Don’t scoff. There are many witnesses to the weirdness in my life. They’ll all testify that if something THAT over the top was going to happen, it would happen to ME.
On the other hand, am I now missing my opportunity to meet Nikki Sixx?
Eh. I’ll take my chances. If this works out and leads me to the means to make my millions, I’ll just invite him over for tea, crumpets and a Bones marathon. Cause that’s just how I roll.