For years, I wanted to be Grace Slick. I’ve also, at various times, wanted to be Katherine Graham, Princess Grace, Dorothy Parker, Mrs. Tom Hanks, and Pippi Longstocking. Now, quite out of the blue, I’ve decided I want to be James Thurber, acclaimed author of My Life and Hard Times, among other things.
My goal, ultimately, is to gather an assortment of my best posts into an illustrated collection and have them published. It’s a futile effort, of course, a new windmill to tilt at, but it’s more fun than bingo or shuffleboard. Although the eye strain caused by parking myself at a computer all day and night is annoying.
Yet eye strain is nothing compared to the other obstacles, such as my birdbrained approach to filing and incredibly careless notes. I mean, I come across useless scribbles like ‘page 23’ and ‘zzzzzz’ and wonder if I’m purposely gaslighting myself. It’s entirely possible, you know, especially considering so many of the titles I’ve indicated don’t seem to exist. Not on my websites, not on my hard drives or flash drives or in my memory bank.
So after a long day of squinting and chasing my tail I want nothing more than to close my laptop and be content as a half-assed doofus. Because, unless James Thurber was insensible and muddled, I’ll have better success chasing unicorns. Still, I have to try.
copyright © 2018 the whirly girl