Good Mourning Widows! Joy to the WORLD!
Today is Thursday.
I sit in my secret writing hiding place -- Not my office -- Not my home -- Not my local library.
I can't tell you where my secret writing place is. Because it's a secret, silly. That's why.
But it's someplace near -- Someplace far.
Someplace with a view --
Busy street traffic outside...
fireplace, available electrical outlets, wireless internet service, friendly persons, the aroma of fresh baked bread, and classical music playing softly in the background inside.
Ahhh, mourning joy. My mourning joy.
This is where I go to rid myself of negative energy.
You know, that ugly horrible mean rotten silly stuff we heap on ourselves in double doses when things don't work out, when people we know and trust disappoint us. And then we beat ourselves up over it. Well, maybe...just a little.
Widows are vulnerable. We think we just can't take it one more day, without -- Him -- Or whatever it is in that teensy part of our brain that's convinced us we must have something to survive.
*Hand raised, waving*
Well, stick a fork in it!
NO MORE NEGATIVE ENERGY FOR ME!
Okay Widows, Where's your secret writing hiding place?
Do you have one?
Well, what are you waiting for?
Find one -- Find that special someplace where you can park your buns, finger hug your pen, and melt that teensy part of your brain, writing your heart out.
I dare you.
And remember, we're not alone.