Mrs. G. sat down six hours ago to write a long overdue update of her life in the margins. September was a trying, uphill month for a number of reasons she is incapable of explaining with any clarity. And should she? Of course she should, because who wants to miss a minute of her ongoing, continually unfolding Lifetime drama: Stout Middle-Aged Woman Searching for Meaning in the Walgreens Candy Aisle
That's right. Mrs. G. lives at the corner of happy and healthy. Just not in September.
It all started with Algebra, hours and hours of tackling it head on, day after day. Mrs. G. couldn't get it because she never got it. Her last required math class was in high school, taught by a man, Dan Hedgeman, who was counting the months until he was eligible for retirement, Mr. Hedgeman smelled like old coffee and anguish. He frequently referenced ships that didn't come in and warned his students to "Just wait, you'll see."
Mrs. G. finally saw...she needed a tutor. The battle continues. Mrs. G. is winning.
Algebra was followed by family visits and a stomach issue that required consistent vomiting for a couple of weeks. She'll spare you the details but Mrs. G. feels the need to share that her visit to a gastroenterologist further compromised her lifelong commitment to the sanctity of her ass. When she called Mr. G. to report the security breach, he told her Sanctity of My Ass should be the title of her first novel. She hung up on him. He called her back and asked her if she had just hung up on him. She assured him she hadn't, that he must not have heard her say goodbye. It's these kinds of games that keep their love alive.
In between throwing up and solving for x, Mrs. G. would sit down and try to write, but she kept coming up empty, so empty she started to question her ability to write, to even discern good writing. She felt like a fraud. She was embarrassed. Rather than pouring a glass of ginger ale and calling it a day, Mrs. G. shut her laptop and didn't open it up until yesterday when her daughter called and told Mrs. G. that someone had contacted her to see if everything was ok.
Everything is ok. Thank you for asking. Mrs. G. just needed to take a break...a long ass break. Her laptop sat on the dining room table, untouched, for nearly thirty days. This is odd to admit but Mrs. G. was wary of it. She would walk by and avoid looking at it. There was a peculiar stand off that Mrs. G. is unable to clearly explain. Like her, the whole deal was weird. Particularly since September is typically her favorite month of the year. October, though, is looking a-ok.
There you have it in 521 words. Mrs. G. intended to just quietly slide back in with no fanfare because she hates writing slushy accounts of her good, little, typical life. There are so many bigger fish to fry. Truly.
Fair is fair. How was your September?