Hello again, awesome readers!
It’s the weekend and I really should be doing laundry and cleaning toilets but, well, here I am. Call it procrastination. Call it a sudden visit from the muse. Call it whatever you want. All I want to do today is WRITE.
The inspiration for this blog post came when I was sitting with my laptop and Jed (have you met Jed? He’s my dog.), stuck his big head in the nook between my arms and my keyboard and gave the keys a big, fat slurp.
“Don’t lick my computer.”
I wasn’t really paying attention when I said those words. I was busy working on my serial killer story. And then the echo of my voice started seeping into my awareness and I started thinking about other things I never thought would come out of my mouth. That’s when I decided to put the thriller aside and compile a list.
Spoiler alert: this post involves technological mishaps, a touch of absurdity, and a conversation with my peace lily.
The microwave. My silent nemesis.
Yes, I sometimes argue with an appliance that gives new life to leftover pizza. At least they CALL it an appliance, but is it really? My microwave can be just as uncooperative as a toddler in the middle of a meltdown. And of course, I don’t help matters. “Why are you beeping like that? You’re not done! Stop pretending!” I never envisioned myself having a heated debate with an appliance about the appropriate level of reheating. It’s not exactly a conversation I’m prepared for, so I guess it’s a good thing that my microwave doesn’t respond. Oh wait! The beeping. Isn’t that called being passive aggressive???
The plant whisperer. Or something.
I caught myself having a one-sided conversation with my wilting peace lily the other day. “Come on, buddy, it’s just a bit of neglect. You can survive this!” Who knew I’d be trying to boost the morale of a houseplant? I mean, I appreciate the greenery, but I never anticipated playing motivational speaker to A PLANT. (Perhaps this is how Tony Robbins got his start?)
The case of the missing socks. The mystery continues.
One of my first steps into adulting involved me doing my own laundry. The question first popped up over 40 years ago and continues to be one of life’s biggest mysteries (at least in my house): “Where do all the socks go?” It’s like there’s an underground society of feral socks plotting their escape from the washing machine. Or perhaps the mystery begins AFTER the washing machine cycle and in the dryer. It’s sad when you think about it… all these lonely socks out there somewhere. I’ve considered starting a support group for the ones that don’t leave me, but I really don’t want to be known as the crazy sock lady.
Okay, it’s time to get back to my serial killer story. Oh! But before we leave each other, let me just make one thing clear: While I’m known as a memoirist, the thriller I’m working on is NOT based on my life experiences. (Thank goodness!)
In case you’re interested, Chapter One is available on Amazon. Click here to download.
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Mona Andrei is an award-winning humour/humor blogger, columnist, and author. In her most recent book, SUPERWOMAN: A Funny and Reflective Look at Single Motherhood, she shares her challenges and triumphs as a single mother as well as stories from other single mothers. It’s a fun and insightful read. You should buy it.`
When Mona isn’t writing, you can probably find her dancing. As a member of a competitive hip hop team, she likes to think that she’ll stay young and cool forever. She may be delusional.
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