Sunday Confession: on Monday!

Well, my weekends have been so hectic and crazy I just haven't had a chance to sit down at the computer to do anything! So here is my Sunday Confession...

I have secretly been hoping that the world would stop turning, that I could take a breath and catch up.  I seem to live my life at hyper speed and I never have enough hours in the day.  Why is this?  I do not think I'm the only one suffering from this phenomenon.  It seems to be a pervasive element in today's society - the constant rat race - we all live it and seem to accept it as normal; but is it really?

Were we designed to constantly be living our lives in a state of stress?  I don't think so, I've heard countless "experts" talk about the overload of the cortisol steroid to our systems and how bad it is for us; and yet, nothing changes.  We are still stressed and busy and running on empty.  Why is this what is considered normal now?

I wrote a short story a few days ago, and I plan to share it in my WIP Wednesday post this week.  It is not something that I usually write; but it represents the simpler life I wish I could enjoy with my family and friends.


So, dear readers, here is today's question:
Do you find yourself stuck in a "rat race"?  Do you ever wish the life that you live could slow down a bit?  Am I right in thinking that this issue affects more than just me?

Looking forward to your replies, HAPPY MONDAY!

WIP Wednesday - Degenerates Deserve Death - ADULT CONTENT

Greetings to everyone!

I've a had a pretty eventful last few days and missed my Sunday Confession, sorry for that.  Archer Girl went of to 5th grade camp (*sigh) and I had my second root canal in eight days; plus a TON of running around to get my brother to all the places the county mental health facility is making him go to in order to (possibly) get some damn help.  So, without further ado; and no more bitching today - I give you my next excerpt from my WIP "Degenerates Deserve Death".  As always, there is adult content and I LOVE to read feedback!

Thanks.

“Do you think anyone else saw her?”

“I think the little girl peeking outta the back of that guys big rig saw her, and I don’t think she was suppose to be peeking either” she stares into my eyes, like I wouldn’t understand what she’s saying.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?  Which one?” I whisper.

“No, and you are the only person I know that can take care of this fucker.  It’s the third time he’s been through here in six months, all three times he’s coming from the Salton Sea; and every time – see a different girl.  He’s the younger, cleaner one.  I’d have called you, but you’ve never given me your goddamn phone number!”

I rock back in shock at the venom in her voice.  Is she pissed at me?  When did I become the savior of the world?

“What makes you think I can fix this?” I look at her incredulously.

“You fixed Arnold didn’t you?  I’m here and I’ll help with whatever I have to, he usually sleeps through the day after he’s filled up on my good food and takes off just after dusk.  I think he likes to only travel at night.”

“Yeah, less cops on the road; most of these guys are on that schedule” I say, my mind is already trying to plot out how this will go down.  “Do you still have that nice mobile home up this road?”

“Yes, here are the keys.  How old is that girl you got?” she doesn’t even blink, she must trust me to be on the side of right.

“She’s nine.”

“She needs clothes?”

“Yes”

“I’ve got some old stuff of my Charlene’s up there in a box labeled ‘memories’; you can help yourself to it.  They’re old, but they’ll work” she looks like she’s about to cry all of a sudden.

“Who’s Charlene?” I’ve known this woman eight years and never heard about a kid.

“She’s my daughter.  I haven’t seen her since 1988” her voice cracks.

“Ok, that’s a story for another time.  I gotta go.  When your lunch relief comes in, make your way up to the mobile home – until then, keep an eye on our ‘friend’ and try to get the license plate and his name” I hand her my card, “and here are my numbers, the cell is on and” I look down at my phone “I’ve got coverage here, so call if it looks like he’s leaving”

“Will do.  Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah”

“You do this a lot, don’t you?”

I smile.  “Ma, this is not what I do; because I don’t usually deal with kids, I get the fuckers alone.  I think you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” She smiles back at me.

“Go back inside.  Please act normal.”

“I can act normal, I did it for years” she replies with a bitterness I haven’t heard before.

I open the door and get in.  “Count to 100 and then you can get up”

“One, two, three…”

My mind is racing.  Fuckers are buying and taking the girls on the road with them now?  This is a new development I was unaware of, when did this shit start happening and why didn’t Jake alert me?  I’ve got to get a message to him, we need a meeting immediately.

“One hundred” she at least has the good sense to uncover her head slowly, she’s duly acting repentant so I offer her a small smile.

“You do understand the severity of our situation, right?”

“Yes, I guess, but really – we haven’t done anything wrong; right?” she winks at me!

“Shit! girl you are funny!” I laugh out loud.

“Well, can I help it if George was a nasty, evil drunk who abused me for years and then died in a drunken accident; just as you were walking around to take some sunrise shots of the sea?”  I stare at her.  God, she almost convinced me that is how it happened.

“That’s your story, and your stickin’ to it, is that right?”

“Absolutely, that is what happened.  You are a good Samaritan that freaked out when I lost my mind and all you could think about was taking care of me – maternal instincts and all that.”  Wow!  She’s really good.

“You think anyone would believe that I’ve got maternal instincts?” I laugh out loud. 

“You are better than me, older and wiser – I bet you can convince anyone of anything; can’t you?” she sure is confident of my abilities, I’d hate to burst her bubble.  Truth is, I’m one of the best liars around – my whole life is a lie, so it comes naturally.  I must be slipping because I hadn’t even thought of a cover story, it hadn’t occurred to me to prepare one – how stupid is that?  This nine year old is up one on me in the common sense department.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“Well, here’s the thing.  We’ve had a change in plans.  Seems there is a guy back there that has a girl in his truck and if it was his daughter, he’d have brought her inside for food; ya know?”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying.  What are you gonna do?”

“I haven’t quite got is all figured out yet.  There is a safe place at the end of this road, where you can get showered and get dressed while I try to figure this shit out.”

“Okay.” she whispers.

“What’s wrong now?” I ask.

“It would be cool if it was my sister” 

Sunday Confession: I'm a Card Carrying Liberal, Bleeding Heart, Lesbo and Fag Loving Left-Wing Socialist!

Have you ever had someone call you something, usually they are trying to "insult" you; but when they say it...well, you can't help but feel a bit of pride?  The above statement was used on me a few days ago, and I'm proud to say - it's all true, I guess; at least from the person's perspective that said it.  I'm totally "Okay" with being perceived as "a card carrying liberal, bleeding heart, lesbo and fag loving; left-wing Socialist" because if that is what THIS person thinks of me; then it means they see me as the opposite of them - and that makes me rejoice!

I wonder, is this a phenomenon that only occurs in California?  Or have you found yourself being "insulted" by someone and then thinking, "Actually, that sounds good; yeah, I'm fine with that!"?  I'm curious to see.

I'm Hearing Voices! (and doesn't everyone?) The Character Blogfest & My Sunday Confession

I picked this up from Michael Offutt and instantly fell in love with the idea.  I don't know if I'll love the actual writing of it, but the challenge is what I crave! ;)  Besides, with my life being what it is right now; the double entendre is just too damn mouth watering to ignore!  (More on what I mean by that after the details of the blogfest, just keep reading!)

 

So here is what Cassie Mae at Reading, Writing, and Lovin' It has to say about her cosponsored Blogfest:

Every great story has great characters! So this blogfest is designed to help us flex our character writing muscles through three separate blog posts.

  As I mentioned, this Blogfest is being cosponsored, and so Cassie Mae is working with Angela Cothran at Live to Write...Edit When Necessary  Please go and visit either of these ladies' sites via the links I've provided to read all the juicy details and join!

Now for my confession... 

I've mentioned before that I REALLY hate mental illness, you can read about it here and here. Somehow my life seems to be consumed by it at the moment.  In my last post regarding my brother, I discussed his willingness to admit he needs medical help.  He has been staying at our home since then!  That brings the cacophonous ridiculousness of my condo to seven residents; Hubby, Archer Girl (my daughter), Archer Boy (my eldest son), Lil' Demon (my baby), Mother (literally, my mom), Diva of Darkness (me) and now add Crazy (my brother).  All of us in a 1600 square foot, 3 bedroom and 2 bathroom condominium.  All I can say is Holy Shit and Hairy Balls! 

I am a mother of three with one demon-possessed 18 month old still at home (I can't afford to send him to daycare, or I TOTALLY would!) and now I am having to drive my brother to AA meetings and counseling sessions and food stamp offices and welfare departments and this and that...it really is never ending. 

  So when I sit in with him at an appointment and he begins to explain how he isn't schizophrenic because the voices in his head only tell him "GOOD" things - well, it is very hard to nonchalantly pick my jaw up from off the floor, dust it off and then reattach it.  Wha-Wha- WHAT???  YES.  He has voices that tell him things.  Things to do, things to say, how to act, how to react; but EVERYTHING they tell him is for his benefit.  So he's not crazy, right?  In fact, he believes that these are spiritual beings of some kind and they are encouraging him to stay true to his "path of spiritual warfare" and to "keep his armor on at all times" because he needs "to bring the wrath of GOD down on everyone that doesn't believe in him".  Really.  I'm not kidding.  By the way, the therapist couldn't really get him to solidify his meaning when he said "believe in him", like HIM as in GOD or him as in himself?!?!  I think he started to realize that saying you are Christ might get you labeled "CRAZY", so he just ignored the question.

He's working the 12 steps, he's going to counseling, he's got an appointment with the county mental health office to see a psychiatrist at the end of this month...but I still question whether he REALLY understands that what goes on in his mind is not normal.  I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because it always has in the past.

So all of that leads up to my confession - I don't trust my brother to not be playing me for the fool...again.