Computers

I have just wasted what seems like half a day wrestling with my computers. Love 'em when they cooperate, but they can sure make you crazy. My downstairs computer has given up on margins. It thinks that I am happy looking at 3/4 of the screen, even when I can't find "SEND" or "NEXT." It's also highly mercurial in that sometimes it works like a charm and others, it redefines "slow." About an hour ago, I got really mad at it and decided to just use the old button method to . . . kill it, but it wouldn't have anything to do with dying, and just kept on being slow, which made me even more crazy than usual. My upstairs computer (the MacBook Pro I used to love) insists on bringing up all 2,000 of my photos every time I walk near it. When it's not doing that, it's whirling that colored disk around endlessly and refusing to let me access anything at all while it does this important work. OK, two, no maybe three deep breaths, and I'll put myself on the piano bench and run through some Bach. Who needs computers anyway??

A new beginning?

Thank goodness for my writing group is all I can say. Yesterday one of the members, Debbie, asked me for the address of my blog as she has decided she wants to start one, too. Do you think I could remember it?? How pitiful is that!! But it did remind me that if I'm going to consider myself a writer, I should be writing. It's SO easy to not write. I can think of all kinds of things to do instead, even things I don't like to do, like cleaning out a closet. Procrastination is my middle name. I know why I put it off, however. I resist sitting in that chair and facing the blank screen because (a) I always think I have nothing to say, and (b) it's hard to write. I do understand that often one has to just start and write nonsense if one must, until something real, something truthful, perhaps even hurtful, emerges. It's a discipline that I have found very difficult to cultivate, but maybe this time, I will! Thanks, Deb.