I’m blog-lite these days
It’s part of my commitment to write more and blog less. Oh and to quit neglecting my kids so much. (Madison is able to free herself of her restraints now. Kidding! She can’t free herself! Kidding! We have no restraints! Call off CPS!)
I spent my babysitting time this morning trying to drum up work in the ever-pressing need to make our budget. That’s my big challenge for this winter: How do I make our budget without going insane? I have to goose myself into action and the effort knocks me out. Making our budget has nothing to do with writing even if I’m writing to do it.
I grew up in the shadow of this man because my dad worked his way up from insurance salesman (cold calling businesses) to a regional manager. I spent a lot of time at conventions where grown men would leap from their chairs, pump their fists and scream, “I feel healthy! I feel happy! I feel terrific!” We three kids would hide under the tablecloths in the back waiting for our dad to come off the stage and then we’d scour the room for left-over lifesavers after the men left. (They always had trinkets or candy on the tables at these things to keep the men all sugar-rushed and excited.)
This is probably why I married Brett — I find ambitious men suspect.
I told my dad that he needs to dig his old signs out for me. The two I most remember (he would bring them home in boxes and we would color on the backs of them) are these:
- Direct your thoughts. Control your emotions. Ordain your destiny.
- Do it now!
I also find optimism suspect. My father (when I was in seventh grade) hollered at me, “You’re pessimistic, over-opinionated and too dogmatic!” I went to school and looked up “dogmatic” in the dictionary and said, “Yup.”
Actually I’m not all that pessimistic but people with relentless good cheer remind me of salesmen and I don’t trust salesmen; I’ve met too many of them. This goes for cheerful freelancers, too. I always think they must be deranged. They make me feel like Janie Gibbs grinning evilly at her jocular mother. In the presence of cheerful freelancers I feel both tragically inept and sneakily superior. (It’s a character flaw I’m unwilling to give up just yet. Dr. Phil says, “How’s that workin’ for ya?” I hate Dr. Phil, too.)
I’ve been meaning to write an essay about this and I had a great title for it but now I forget. I hope I wrote it down somewhere and manage to find it eventually.
And now I’m going to go play with my children!
This is the difference between you and me- when I was 19, I thought I WANTED to be a motivational speaker! Not in the van down by the river way, but I loved all the people at hair dressing conventions that they hired to pump us up. Now I am mostly bored by them, but there are a few who I find inspirtational. Dr. Phil, totally annoying.
I think your description as a teenager completely fits Mallory. Completely. I don’t think it’s a flaw, I think it’s the way she is, and we should roll with it. Me, I’m still the optimistic cheerleader type, but with a healthy dose of cynicism and sarcasm thrown in.
I LOVE that you’ve compared yourself to Janie Gibbs. Haven’t read the book in years, but knew just who you were talking about and got exactly what you meant. It’s perfect!
Ha. I LOVE Janie Gibbs! And Harriet. And all of them.
I know what you mean about salesmen, but my dad was the best salesman in the world . He travelled throughout the Southeast, from Virginia through Georgia and Kentucky, selling souvenirs to gift shops. He was, like, THE BEST. Everyone loved him because he was so happy and honest, which is an incredible combination. One day I’m going to write a great big blog post (or an essay! or a book!) about him.
Did you see Dr. Phil on homeschooling? I only saw the preview when I was at the gym-he was attacking an unschooling mother. (I can’t ignore tv screens when they are near me, and that day, Dr. Phil was the best option between ESPN and soaps.)
Gosh, cheerful freelancers get me through the day! Particularly when I have an editor killing my (huge, well-paying) story because my writing sucks. (Paraphrased, but accurate, sadly.) Then again, you know how I feel about Dr. Phil.
You can always do a little corporate writing…usually quick jobs and decent pay.
I’m just sayin’.
That weird cheerfulness thing is what scares me most about lots of (not all!) evangelical Christians. I had strangers say to me on my Baptist college campus, “smile! Jesus loves you!” And I wanted to scream “how do you know my mother didn’t just drop dead!?! Don’t tell me to smile, freak!”
Hostile? yeah, that was me in college.
Hi Im new to your site so please excuse me if this is out of order but http://www.getafreelancer.com often has small writing projects on there. Its not great but its something and you wouldnt have to talk to anyone cheerful.
Dark humour! Gallows humour! Humour in the face of overwhelming odds that are overwhelming for a very good reason! I love it! So Monty Python, you know? Like that song in Life of Brian: “Still I must admit/Life’s a bit sh**” whistle the crucified people.
Ahh I love this. My dad is a salesman. My brother is a salesman. My uncle is a salesman. Both my grandpas were salesmen. My great-grandpa was a
salesman.
Nice enough men, but I eventually learned to not to trust a word out of any of them.
And oh how I can relate to freelancing/budget woes. Freelancing flat out SUCKS sometimes. I feel like I spend more time drumming up the work than doing the work and getting paid.