Confessions of an Addicted Woman

For today's post, a bit of fun.
Perhaps levity will bring back the sun? ...

My new companion never leaves me. It’s green, of course, and has long slimy tentacles that twist and turn in all directions. The tentacles are covered with polka dots. The underside of each tentacle is bright pink and scaly. The tentacles reach out every day – sometimes twice a day – to reel me in.

“Hungry!” it says and opens its mouth. “Give me words! Dress me up in pictures. Show me off.”

I try to ignore the constant WRITE-ME, WRITE-ME,WRITE-ME, WRITE-ME that reverberates through my mind but usually surrender.

Why, no later than this morning, after clicking Publish Post, came the whisper: “Provide questions, please. You forgot a Take Home.”

Sure enough, I had neglected to stimulate discussion among readers by asking a few relevant questions, so back in I went to add some.

We’ve reached a Pax Romana of sorts.

Sven is not too crazy about my blog because it takes up so much of my time. As always, he’s patient about what he calls, “my addiction.”

We take it for walks at the beach. Being an octopus-like creature, it loves the sea. If I paid it any mind, that’s all readers would hear about. The crustaceans washed up on the shore, the schools of fish, followed by a posse of seagulls, the brisk salt-sea air. When we head home, it drags its tentacles in the sand.

My blog hates sleep. “Cyberspace is 24/7,” it quips when I switch off the computer at 10:00 pm. “How about a little nightcap? We could describe all the dips and dives on the Outer Cape, visit them in person…”

I point out that this plan is not practical and “in person” is really not an option. What’s more, May is still the month showing on our calendar, despite the warm weather. Most Cape nightclubs are not yet open. It’s got a sensible streak, so usually my response provides quiet for a while.

But sometimes it does get outlandish ideas. This afternoon, for instance, while shopping in Orleans, it made such a scene that I entered a clothing store. “I’ve been feeling naked, totally exposed,” it whined. I pointed out that blogs should be naked, but it wasn’t buying my explanation. So I picked out a cute little dress.

“No way!” came the shriek in my head. “Not flouncy enough.”

I dismissed the request as out of hand and visited the pharmacy to pick up meds, and the cleaners to pick up slipcovers and curtains. I went to the bank for more money. Then I hit Friendship Market for more flowers, and filled my basket with fruit at Phoenix. Finally I was ready to go home. I paused in front of the consignment shop, across Cove Road. Writing ideas started floating through my head. The blog was also paying attention.

“I want that one!” it said and aimed a tentacle at a pink prom dress in the window.

I tsk-tsked what was no more than a caprice and took us home, offering instead these words of consolation as I drove along: "My new companion never leaves me. It's green, of course, and has long slimy tentacles covered with polka dots. The underside of each tentacle is bright pink and scaly. The tentacles reach out every day – sometimes twice – to reel me in ..."

PS. And, don't miss this! Tracy Doerr features my blog this morning, a perfect way for me to celebrate Mother's Day. (Thanks, Tracy!) Read the interview at Tracy Doerr.