MARTHA STEWART, HAH! | Secret Life of a Chaotic Writer

Luna the One-Eyed Wonder Dog, messy eater
Luna the One-Eyed Wonder Dog, messy eater

My mind is too full. It’s so full of novel stuff (page proofs! an upcoming conference to prepare for! what about the current work-in-progress?!?!?) and Debutante Ball debut author blog stuff (fabulous relaunch 9/1! brainstorming! getting organized!) that I’m in danger of short circuiting. In fact, the other night I turned on my bedside lamp because I couldn’t sleep, and the bulb flared, popped, died, and blew the circuit while it was at it.

How perfectly symbolic.

The ying and yang of all this brain activity is that I’m oddly blank too. For example, when the light bulb blew out the circuit, I whimpered because I couldn’t bear the thought of dealing with an electrician. I whimpered some more when I realized I had no Wifi and would have to unplug the television cable. It took me 12 hours–t.w.e.l.v.e. hours–to remember to flip the circuit breaker back to on. Uh-huh, that’s what I’m talking about. Oddly blank.

Here’s another example: As of last week, I have ants in my house. I’ve lived in my place for three years, but NOW the frenetic little beasties show up.

Again, how perfectly symbolic.

Yes, OK, I’m too distracted to keep up on the cleaning. The place is a wreck, and my wee dog, Luna the One-Eyed Wonder, is a messy eater. So, yes,Β dried-up wet food crusts the linoleum. Or rather, crusted the linoleum because the ants cleaned it up for me. Now that they’ve discovered the Eden that is my kitchen, they’re here to stay.

I gaze at the ants–my own little ecosystem–clean up new dog and human messes, and that’s about it. My brain blanks out when I think about the next step. Honestly, I can’t be bothered to buy one of those ant poisoner thingies. I don’t even know what they’re called, and I can’t be bothered to find that out either. So the little beasties and I shall live in harmony for the time being.

I forgot about my toenails. No summery pedicures for me. In fact, I shouldn’t be seen in sandals.

I forget to roll the pet hair off my clothes before I run out of the house.

I discovered a mushy, practically liquified, bunch of asparagus in the crisper.

A load of laundry has been sitting on the dining table for a month. It’s dusty with–you got it–animal hair, so I’ll need to wash it again. Someday.

At a stop light, I sneezed and rolled into the car in front of me.

I blew through a stop sign–whoops!–and received a $250 traffic ticket.

I lost my keys and shelled out $150 for a locksmith…

Now I don’t know how to end this post. I normally try to round them out, return full circle, but. My mind just went blank again.

10 comments on “MARTHA STEWART, HAH! | Secret Life of a Chaotic Writer

  • Oh, yeah. One of my headlights is out and I just can’t face going to the auto parts store, much less getting out the screwdriver and O-M-G. AND I knocked over the iron and melted the carpet. My cats have fleas. I have a zillion plums rotting beneath the tree and in my crisper drawer. I guess Chaos is our reality until we can afford an assistant. Ha.

  • Poor Lisa!! I wish I could tell you it gets better, but you’re pretty much describing “debut writer brain” … and I wish I could tell you it ends at launch, but so far the evidence is otherwise (in my case, anyway). The writing part does get better though, and you start getting fun stuff along with the weirdness, so … hang in there!! It gets happier, if not less weird!

    • Hah! Debut writer brain! It’s rather comical, actually. I’m glad to know the writing part does get better. Whew! But, really, how lucky I am to be in this surreal position!

  • Lists. The only way I can be sure to function is if I have a list of things to cross off. I loved the breaker moment. Somedays I think I need to make a list to tell me why walked into the kitchen, bathroom, etc. When I’m doing something else, such as emptying the dishwasher or showering, my mind “writes” up a storm, but as soon as I sit down to write, my mind goes totally blank.


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