I consider myself, deep down, a humorist. Lately though my laugh gene seems to be at large. If you run into it, can you send it home? Tell it I’ll be good and try very hard to appreciate it more.
This is only a theory but…
my heart has been heavy outweighing the humor.
I wish I could conduct a survey asking my favorite writers if this has ever happened to them.
I can’t believe it hasn’t since life has a way of splicing your cheer in half when you least expect it, like an unsuspecting coconut. Does David Sedaris ever wake up and not feel wry and witty? Hard to imagine.
And Jean Kerr, my favorite silly lady who wrote about everything under the sun with balloons on her heads. Did she feel how I’m feeling…empty…giggles missing in action, smiles nowhere to be seen?
What am I doing writing about dead Syrian children? Oh yeah, that’s the best way to promote readership – depress everybody.
Imagine a clown at the circus administering last rites. That’s me, Bozo with rosary beads.
I’m thinking of posting less. Five essays a week, after penning seven, seemed like a good change. But now I’m thinking three. Athingirl, in more ways than one, is getting a little old in the midst of her third year. Even with new packaging she may need to rethink who she is on the page.
So if I don’t show up one day, please don’t think I’m dead…it’s more than likely I’m just recharging my batteries.
I appreciate the handful of you who read me every day. It’s an honor that’s never taken for granted.
I want to be a better writer who makes you smile. Need to find her again because I really like that Susannah.
She’s a lot of fun.
SB
