I woke up (again) at 5:00 a.m., ready to hop out of bed and start the day. I had not even gone to bed until almost 12:30 a.m. this morning, so even though my brain was saying, "Come on!! Get up!! Let's go and get on with another new day!!!" my body felt like I was suffering from a hangover (not that I would know what that feels like). Or hit by a Mack truck. Or hit by a Mack truck while I was hungover.
While my brain was firing on all cylinders, I let my body rest. For half an hour. That was all my brain would allow. It was like a petulant child whining "Can we get up now? Please?? How about now? Almost? Come on, I wanna get up...."
So I listened to my inner child and got up. Amazingly, I felt pretty darn good. I had tended to all-things-that-needed-tending before I went to bed last night (thus, my late hour) so I woke up to an empty slate. Talk about energizing!
My body was grateful for the extra half hour and I was on my way to a brand new day. "Yee haw!" was the undertone of my thoughts. And I am not even kidding.
I made my morning coffee and smoothie, when suddenly I wondered why my smoothie looked different. My exhausted brain forgot to add the milk. Take "that", brain!! I told you we needed more rest!
[I am using far too many exclamation points this morning. My Youngest Son tells me exclamation points in writing are the equivalent of laughing at your own jokes. I must think I am a riot this morning. !!]
Anyway, back to my tale (the caffeine must be interacting with my brain on hyper-drive and adrenaline because I feel like I have so very much to say) ...
I am feeling very good about the progress I am making with our Book Project. I have enlisted the help of a few family members and it has lightened my load immensely.
Each one of my uncle's chapters came together in its own time and fashion. I think because I didn't push to get them done, each chapter took on its own personality and that 'something special' in its own, unique way from the others.
I had (pretty much) completed five out of the seven Uncle Chapters and was belaboring the last two.
I was still waiting for a family to get back to me on one chapter. The other chapter was 'complete' but it was not yet special.
So ... I contacted my uncle's son yesterday to ask if he would be interested in working his magic with his dad's chapter. This cousin is quite the story teller. By the time he finishes talking you are unsure about what is fact and what is fiction but he makes me laugh. A lot.
I told him "You are such a masterful story teller and all I can think, is your spin on your dad's story could turn it into a real page turner."
He replied "I think I fall under bullshitter" as opposed to "masterful story teller", but thank you."
My reply? "PotAYtoes ... potAHtoes. I can already hear the laughter."
Another cousin is quite literally in the middle of a move but promised to get what she had been working on, off to me as soon as she is able.
My uncle has been an incredible source of encouragement, information, support and answers to my endless questions. I talked to him on the weekend and he has some 'edits' ready to 'FedEx' to me as soon as the post office opens.
With assistance like this, who could ask for more???
Me. That is who. I am not going to say too much here because my family reads this blog and I don't want to let the cat out of the bag until I am certain it is a cat. But, just a little teaser. I asked someone we all know and love a
When in the world did I become a person who asks for help? And why in the world does it feel so okay to accept it, when it is given freely? I think it is given freely. Perhaps it is not. Perhaps those very same people could not sleep last night because they said "Yes" when they really and truly wanted to say "Sorry. I just can't at this time". But they didn't sound that way when I talked to/texted/emailed them...
The only thing that could possibly be better is the fact that this Book Project is coming so close to the end.
I puttered, fixed, formatted, edited, moved, shuffled, fact-checked (you name it, I did it) for a good, solid day (and another not so good, broken up day) this past weekend. Last night I was hyped. I was almost dancing in the kitchen. I was telling my son how great this was. I am going to complete this job!!
Then something happened to my document. The document that I had been working on all weekend and had not saved to a back up file or USB stick.
It froze up. It would not allow me to navigate through the pages. The table of contents was all wacky. It kept fast forwarding me to the middle of the book if I pressed the wrong key.
My heart stopped beating for a while. I am not certain but I think I felt my extremities losing their blood. "Oh. No."
I talked myself through the moment. All was not lost. Just the weekend. And even that was not lost because it appeared that I would be able to print off the entire document and go back and make my edits to the document I saved four days ago from the corrected version. But I did not want to do that. But it was possible.
All is not lost. All is not lost. All is not lost.
That is the mantra that went through my brain as my world stood still. I must have looked shaken because my son was calm, cool and collected. He tried to think logically and find the solution. When your child acts like an adult when the ground beneath your feet starts to shake, you know it's serious.
Then I did it. I fixed it. I unlocked my document and all was right in my world again. Then the adrenaline really kicked into hyper-drive.
I kept going for hours after the near loss of my book.
It is so close, I can taste it. And it even tastes good! The end is near and I am ready to let go of my baby. I have not only held onto it during its gestational phase, but I have nurtured it and helped it grow. I sort of feel like the mother who has nursed her child just a few too many years ...
It is going to feel funny to let go and set this book out into the brave new world outside of my own personal computer.
But I think we are ready. Both me and the book.
I was so frustrated with myself for allowing this project to drag on and on. And on. I had a feeling there was a purpose behind its delay. I believe there was.
So very many people have a hand in this project. So many. When people are actually holding it in their hands I think they will feel the community it took to put all of this together. It feels like our whole family is a part of this project and it warms my heart.
It wouldn't have felt this way if I had rushed the process. Or if I had not asked for input and assistance.
I suppose I am tired of being a 'single parent' and there is a part of me that recognizes there is no need to 'raise a child (aka: Book)' on your own, when there are others that are ready, willing and able to help and nurture that 'child' grow to a place where they are standing on their own two feet.
My 'baby' has grown up. I am almost ready to let it go. It is time ....