Fears Associated With Living Alone

However I begin with:

My mini vacation ends tomorrow. I have done a lot of writing while away. Some poetry for the second blog. Some catch up and getting ahead on posts for both blogs.

I wish someone would have stressed with me that writing can be a full time job. I had these great intentions to crank out post after post and safely tuck them away for future presentation. Not happening.

I have been researching for some historical Feminist Friday posts-more on that in an upcoming FF.

I had to prepare for Media Monday tomorrow-that was fun actually.

I wanted to work ahead on some of the trickier assignments for Writing 101, the ongoing workshop from The Dailypost folks-I laugh at myself regarding this one. HAHAHA! Tomorrows assignment is a character study of an interesting person we met during 2014. Have I even met anyone? If so, was it for more than a few seconds, a chance encounter more likely. I’ve been trying to figure out how to pull something out of my bag. That means using creative invention to breath life into a fictional character. 

I also had some serious reading to do focused on numerous missed blog posts from one of my favorite bloggers–see the explanation in the Media Monday post tomorrow.

Interspersed with all the above I walked, I finished one book that I brought with me, and began another, which by the way is proving to be eerily descriptive of the way I view my own life. I have also been surprised at just how many people, mostly families with young children or retired folk my age, were staying in this little community. I suppose I was witnessing a last hurrah of summer so to speak. Today, writing in my little cabin, I am surrounded by the cleaning staff straightening and polishing house after house.

This morning I did have some inspiration for a post, although it has taken me most of the day to decide if I should post it here or on the second blog. Guess what-you all won!

So, I give you my short list of things I fear should I find myself living alone in a beach cabin.

1. I fear falling in the shower. Naked, white flesh all jiggly, folded, and wrinkled beyond normalcy when I am found by the cleaning staff 48 hours later shivering under the icy water because my hot water tank ran out 47 hours ago.

2. I fear starvation when I am unable to open jars of food simply because the vacuum seals are impervious to my arthritic hands and there are no decent tools in any of the “well-stocked” drawers with which to open said jars.

3. I fear days without either TV or music due to my inability to figure out how to work the two needed remote controls that turn on each of the boxes at my audio/visual cabinet. Okay, I don’t really fear this, but there were a few programs I wanted to see.

4. I fear getting out of the shower, crashing into the wall three feet to my right and bouncing back into the tub where I am knocked unconscious and the rest of the scenario described in #1 plays out.

5. I fear having to be the person who must kill large spiders and other many legged insects, especially because long, sharp objects with which to spear these creatures are not plentiful.

6. I fear being labeled eccentric because someone, (likely the service staff) may notice me through my kitchen window talking to my artfully arranged lunch platter of cheese, fruit, pita crisps, and pickled asparagus-which I might add is very good. In my defense, I was only complimenting myself on my skills, not really expecting my food to answer me.

7. I fear being seen, once more most likely by service staff, grooving and/or singing to 1970’s disco music. I am now, for that reason, listening to instrumental smooth jazz to keep myself in check.

8. I fear, irrationally I may add, that I will misplace my glasses and be too blind or perhaps tipsy on wine, to find them. I also have an irrational fear that I will suddenly, as if full blown dementia will strike like lightening, forget the lock code to my cabin door and have to walk to the rental office and admit that I am a clumsy, half-blind, disco loving yet eccentric and senile physically and technologically challenged arachnophobic middle-aged woman who needs to be let back into her cabin so that she can continue to write really important and profound stuff.


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