I was putting together a salad today. This salad calls for either feta or blue cheese crumbles. Looking through the contents of the refrigerator I found a container, already opened, of feta crumbles.
I picked it up, thought “I’m not sure this is any good anymore,” and put it back in the refrigerator.
Yes, that’s right, I put it back, as though …. what? As though there’s a magical monkey in my refrigerator that has the power to make food good again? Why, if I wasn’t sure whether the cheese was any good anymore, would I put it back in the refrigerator? It’s not going to get less bad. The refrigerator, like Cher, can’t turn back time.
Luckily, for once I stopped myself mid-action and made this logical connection. I then looked at the “use by” date and it isn’t until Saturday, so I used it up without concern.
However, I know for sure I’ve done that before. Have you?
Also, speaking of Cher, it’s a good thing she doesn’t live in a refrigerator because she would need more clothes, for sure.
Right now I’m working on revising and editing my novel … again. Still. I’ve been revising and editing since the invention of maple syrup, since the time when people first started using fur for blankets at night, since the dawn of dinosaurs, since rocks. I have been revising and editing for a very long time.
Because I’ve decided to e-publish, it does not escape me that at some point, I will put this book out there. That’s the point, right? But as I revise and edit I have been thinking, what if this is the crappiest book of all time, and I’m going to put it out there, and you all are going to read it, and then you’ll KNOW that it is the crappiest book of all time? And when you see me at parties you’ll get that panicked look on your face, the one where suddenly all you can think of is “CRAPPY BOOK AUTHOR” but you’re trying to talk about other things, oh, the weather, my new shoes (ha, I never buy shoes), or your pets, and suddenly you’ll say “Yes, the rain has been torrential hasn’t it, the basement flooded HOLY SH*T DOES YOUR BOOK SUCK sorry, didn’t mean to say that out loud, well, Eugene and I must be leaving now” and then you’ll run out the door and I won’t be invited back because I ruined the party.
But let’s not panic. Let’s look on the potential bright sides: