My pantaloons-challenged fiend has resurfaced. Right on schedule. And although sharing the latest confidence-bashing session feels unprofessional, I promised to blog honestly about my transition into writing. Ya gots ta take the good with the bad.
My Conversation With Mr. Nasty Pants
Mr. NP, feet shuffling and arms pumping in evil anticipation: “Well, Missy, people can soon read your book. You must be glued to the toilet.”
Me: “Well, yes, I do feel as though I’m simmering in a stew of adrenalin. But, you know, that’s the order of things, right?”
Mr. NP: “Sure…sure. But are you prepared for the snickers? For whispers behind your back? For nose pinching and dry heaving and the cough of cruddy prose?”
Me, head suspended between my knees in pre-syncopal grayness: “Um…”
Mr. NP, prancing away: “Oh, good, so you’re aware then. Just checking.”
The Good News
But guess what? Even though my nasty imp pops up like a bloated carcass, I’m learning to dunk him back under. Partly because the situation is now out of my control—the book should surface next week—but mostly because of you. The enthusiastic response to my last blog post surprised, humbled, and thrilled me. Your support turns every verbal turd from Mr. Nasty Pants into a Tootsie Roll—hard to chew but not impossible.
So thank you all very, very much. You made my week and fought off my demons.
Wait, There’s One More Thing
I haven’t posted any Awful Offspring Offal for a while, but today, for something different, I’m going to showcase some Horrible Husband Haiku.
Why Mr. Rubin suddenly decided to scribe haiku is beyond me. Perhaps the penis and poo haiku my boys chanted at dinner a few nights ago birthed his inspiration.
The set-up to Mr. Rubin’s haiku consists of a collection of old towels, long overdue for a date with the trash can. (Note to self: Buy new towels.)
Horrible Husband Haiku
My hair smells like mold
Not because I am old, but
The towels must go
After his enchantment with the first one, he one-upped it with this:
I don’t like to write
It does not cause undo fright
I simply just suck
Supportive blogging buddies and a funny husband. Take that Mr. Nasty Pants.
Have your self-doubt demons visited lately? What helps you beat them away? Ever lost a dental crown in a Tootsie Roll? I did. Do your towels smell moldy? Mine do.
All images from Microsoft Clip Art