source

So last week I planned on blogging more often. When I was a child, I planned on being a famous recording artist when I grew up. Sometimes things just don’t turn out the way you plan. I mean, it has only been 6 days since my last post. It’s not like its a whole month.

Today I told someone, “We are all flexible humans, and our opinions about ourselves need to be flexible as well.” I thought that was pretty solid advice. I’m just trying to be flexible now with myself and not beat myself up for not posting every 37 seconds.

So let’s talk about Mr. O for a second. Last night he did something pretty darn sweet, and I just couldn’t keep it to myself. I have my first packet of the semester due for graduate school next Monday. I’m not even close to being as prepared as I would like. When this happens I tend to do a bit of whining, and I also beg other people to do my homework for me. Unfortunately, no one ever takes me up on that. Anyway, I was laying in bed and typing away. Oh, and I was also bugging Mr. O.

“Who do you think I should be speaking to in this monologue?” I’d ask him, after explaining the story. “I don’t know what to write about,” I’d grumble. “Ugh, can’t I just help you clean instead?” Let’s just say I wasn’t very invested in writing at that moment.

Mr. O is quite the tough cookie. He’s pretty insistant that I actually do my homework, instead of just talk about how I could be doing my homework. (Totally unfair, I know, I know, I know…) I think because he’s a father, he picks up on things like me trying to weasel out of my homework. I really thought offering to help him clean would be a way I could stop writing, but nope! Mr. Tough Guy saw right through me. So, being the super sweet boyfriend that he is, he sat down on the bed and talked with me about the monologues I was working on. He asked me some questions and gave me some suggestions, and it really helped. I was ready to jump back into that monologue from a perspective I wasn’t considering before our chat.

I bet you thought the story would end there.

I probably thanked Mr. O and reiterated that he was the best boyfriend in the whole wide world. He probably told me to quit talking and start typing. But, before he left, I said, “Alright, buddy. I’m going to do my homework in here, and YOUUUU can do my homework out there.” I told him to think of ideas I could write about, because I was stuck. I think he laughed at me when he was opening the door to leave.

So I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. Then I got annoyed with my writing. Then I signed on to Facebook and felt pretty guilty that I was goofing around. Then I wrote. Then I got annoyed again. So I got up and went into the the living room to cuddle up to Mr. O, but he wasn’t there. Then I got all mopey and went back to my writing. A little while later, Mr. O opened the bedroom door. “Alright,” he said, throwing a notebook down on the bed. “Here’s your list.”

THAT CRAZY FOOL HAD BEEN THINKING OF THINGS I COULD WRITE ABOUT!!! And all the ideas were really fantastic!

Aren’t I the luckiest?