Keeping It Real…

I pride myself on being a positive, upbeat person. I like to see the glass as half-full, the donut as being all about the yummy cake. And yet sometimes the Universe puts even the most intrepid Pollyanna through her paces. Sometimes even the savviest spin doctor can only spin her own story but so much. Sometimes, my friends, life just really, really…


In the spirit of keeping it real here on, here are a few primo examples of well, The Suckage.

You’re down to the wire on your manuscript deadline when the person in the apartment above yours decides to take up the mandolin. Preferred practice hours: midnight to 2:30 AM. Preferred practice location: the room directly above your bed.

You receive a summons for jury duty, and the trial date is set for not only the very week but the very day your manuscript revisions are due.

You fly thousands of miles to see your long distance love interest, a man who for seven months has written you letters that would have Ovid reaching for the box of tissues, only to discover that, like the book says, he’s just not that into you.

I think there may have been a black fly in the chardonnay the other day too, but really in light of everything else, that’s pretty manageable.

Memo to Alanis Morissette: no, it’s most certainly not ironic. It’s just damned bad luck.

But enough about my charmed life. C’mon and spill some beans, dish some dirt. C’mon, be a sister, and give it up.

How has your life sucked lately?


4 thoughts on “Keeping It Real…

  1. Oh, yuk!

    I once broke my computer (dropped it) and with it being in the shop, was not able to meet my deadline all while hitting a major romantic rough patch.

    Another time, my hard drive crashed, my dog got sick, and I had a major romantic suckage period.

    When it rains, it pours…

  2. Thanks for sharing, Maya. I do really believe in the Holy Trinity of Suckage e.g., crap comes in three’s. On the bright side, once we hit #3 hurdle, we’re pretty much home free.

  3. Thanks, Megan!

    On the upside, it’s springtime in New York, the book is in (on time, even) and the mandolin playing is down to a dull roar, so it’s all good, I guess.

Comments are closed.