Sunday, December 7, 2008

Writer's Block

Poker Chick has nothing to write about.

She's suffering from an attack of inspiration, energy, confidence, whatever. Everything she considers writing about lately seems pitiful and she's left with no ideas.

She could write about the "breaking news alert" she received that we've been in a recession since 2007. She could do a whole blog about how f*cked up it is that the authorities couldn't figure that one out before we'd already passed the mark for longest one on record since who knows when - and pontificate about what consititutes "Breaking news".

She could talk about the plight of the working mom, and ask for help deciding between a business trip and parent-teacher conferences, not to mention how to deal with snarky and judgemental stay-at-home moms who make things unnecessarily harder (not all of them, just a select precious bunch).

She could talk about complete exhaustion, the kind that happens when you're running a fever, your husband's been out of town for four days, and the mini is up coughing at night so much so that you and the pediatrician decide you must give her an inhaler for the first time.

She could lament about what to do with two weeks off in December, stay at home, go to Vegas, go to LA, do something else, etc, etc. The problems of a New York Ad Girl, indeed.

She could b*tch about the ridiculous expense, chaos and politics that is planning a winter birthday party in New York.

She could whine about the realization that despite many years and good medicine, farm animals still render her nose, eyes and mouth useless in an instant.

She could vent about the food thing, and how exhausting it is to always decline cake, call for pizza ingredients, say no to birthday parties with make your own food, want to scream when the mini is left out of social ocassions/food just because a parent didn't take a minute to be more inclusive. She could tell you about the mini's sad plea at a birthday party ("now can I have my cupcake"?) that is so loud it stops everyone in the room in their tracks and you have to endure horrible looks of pity.

She could talk about the fact that it was a "good" weekend when we only had two time-outs each day and how especially proud she was of mini who not only did a mitzvah by helping her sort and organize books at the synagogue, but also called to her classmate when she came in "Hi, E! Come and play with me and my new friends" (code: kids she just met). The same week, mini had asked Poker Chick to actually stop giving her so much mac and cheese so that there would be enough left to share with her friends. Today she also petted an iguana (technically some kind of "dragon" species) a second time to show a scared classmate that it was friendly and gentle. She could look at these moments and begin to think that maybe she is actually doing something right after all.

Yes, Poker Chick could tell you all this. But none of this will be interesting to you peeps.

So for now, we'll just whine. Being sick sucks, it's freezing outside, and PC is exhausted. Yes, we know. Call a f*cking "waambulance". Will do. In the meantime, can you peeps think of what the hell else you might actually want to read?

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