Sleepy in Seattle
I told my psychiatrist I'm tired.
I've been telling my doctors this for years.
"How many children do you have?"
"Four."
"Oh, yeah. It's probably time of life. I'll order labs, though and we can check everything over and make sure there isn't an underlying condition."
My psychiatrist ordered labs. We're checking my thyroid again. It has something to do with the gigantic growth on my thyroid. It is the size of a something. I can't tell because I only see a little bit of it that is protruding from my voicebox region. I had the bump biopsied years ago. Throat bumps are named Nodules. I do not reccomend naming a child this. Nodule is not a beautiful name. Biopsies are an uncomfortable experience if you don't like sharp things near your throat. I don't. I know, weird. I also had it nuclear imaged, or something like that. I swallowed a dye. And then there were swirly colorful ultrasound images. And then I thought I would get superpowers.
It didn't happen.
Unless that superpower is getting tired. Brandon Sanderson wrote a book called "Alcatraz Versus the Librarians" and the boy in it had a talent of destroying anything he touched, and it turned out to kind of save the world. So, maybe my superpower is being really tired. I guess I could sleep through the zombie apocalypse.
Yeah, I could.
My thyroid did not have cancer. I'm still tired.
I can't drink coffee. Because religion.
I didn't get my labs yet. Instead, I came to Seattle for a writer's conference. I really can't afford this conference, but I didn't know that until after my van's transmission died. Transmissions are inconsiderate like that.
So, here I am in Seattle at a hotel that has the best cookies ever. They are also 310 calories each. Michelle Obama really got things done and now there are calorie counts on everything. Sometimes knowing isn't the best thing. Like, did you know a slice of cake at Safeway is 710 calories? Did you know that there is a huge difference in calories between stir fry and fish and chips at Applebees? Michelle Obama has ruined eating out for me forever. I still love you Michelle.
Anyway, last night I ate my cookie and the other half of my roommate's cookie. Those cookies were freaking amazing. I think it is the large quantity of chocolate lodged in each cookie. Chocolate is the number one ingredient: well, not cacao exactly, but semi-sweet chocolate. Cacao is not edible, which is why Paleo says it is fine to eat. Once you try it, you will never eat it again. Chocolate, on the other hand, is what life is about.
At this writers conference I will be pitching my middle grade fantasy book. I am nervous about this. I've never, ever pitched a thing before. It's going to be good for me. I will pitch, and then I will be able to hear that agents aren't interested, or that they are confused, or whatever, and then I can move on from that and keep writing, and realize that rejection is part of the process. It means I am working. Last night I thought about my pitch as I was falling asleep.
I wonder if I can get another cookie? I'm right here next to the check in desk. How come I can't smell the cookies? Is there a box where people who don't want their cookie can leave the cookie so that once they see the calorie count, they can make healthy choices, and the people who are sitting in the lobby on their laptops can eat the cookies?
Pitch, pitch, pitch....
I've been telling my doctors this for years.
"How many children do you have?"
"Four."
"Oh, yeah. It's probably time of life. I'll order labs, though and we can check everything over and make sure there isn't an underlying condition."
My psychiatrist ordered labs. We're checking my thyroid again. It has something to do with the gigantic growth on my thyroid. It is the size of a something. I can't tell because I only see a little bit of it that is protruding from my voicebox region. I had the bump biopsied years ago. Throat bumps are named Nodules. I do not reccomend naming a child this. Nodule is not a beautiful name. Biopsies are an uncomfortable experience if you don't like sharp things near your throat. I don't. I know, weird. I also had it nuclear imaged, or something like that. I swallowed a dye. And then there were swirly colorful ultrasound images. And then I thought I would get superpowers.
It didn't happen.
Unless that superpower is getting tired. Brandon Sanderson wrote a book called "Alcatraz Versus the Librarians" and the boy in it had a talent of destroying anything he touched, and it turned out to kind of save the world. So, maybe my superpower is being really tired. I guess I could sleep through the zombie apocalypse.
Yeah, I could.
My thyroid did not have cancer. I'm still tired.
I can't drink coffee. Because religion.
I didn't get my labs yet. Instead, I came to Seattle for a writer's conference. I really can't afford this conference, but I didn't know that until after my van's transmission died. Transmissions are inconsiderate like that.
So, here I am in Seattle at a hotel that has the best cookies ever. They are also 310 calories each. Michelle Obama really got things done and now there are calorie counts on everything. Sometimes knowing isn't the best thing. Like, did you know a slice of cake at Safeway is 710 calories? Did you know that there is a huge difference in calories between stir fry and fish and chips at Applebees? Michelle Obama has ruined eating out for me forever. I still love you Michelle.
Anyway, last night I ate my cookie and the other half of my roommate's cookie. Those cookies were freaking amazing. I think it is the large quantity of chocolate lodged in each cookie. Chocolate is the number one ingredient: well, not cacao exactly, but semi-sweet chocolate. Cacao is not edible, which is why Paleo says it is fine to eat. Once you try it, you will never eat it again. Chocolate, on the other hand, is what life is about.
At this writers conference I will be pitching my middle grade fantasy book. I am nervous about this. I've never, ever pitched a thing before. It's going to be good for me. I will pitch, and then I will be able to hear that agents aren't interested, or that they are confused, or whatever, and then I can move on from that and keep writing, and realize that rejection is part of the process. It means I am working. Last night I thought about my pitch as I was falling asleep.
I wonder if I can get another cookie? I'm right here next to the check in desk. How come I can't smell the cookies? Is there a box where people who don't want their cookie can leave the cookie so that once they see the calorie count, they can make healthy choices, and the people who are sitting in the lobby on their laptops can eat the cookies?
Pitch, pitch, pitch....
I get so excited when I see your blog posts in my inbox! You are pretty much the best, just so you know.
ReplyDelete