Nobody really believes that, do they? Well, at least now maybe some people will believe I write fiction.
I was trying to do that thing I talked about last week of having a scheduled writing time and if I can’t seem to write to just sit here for the scheduled time anyways. Guess what I was mostly doing?
Oh, well, right now, obviously I’m writing. If this counts.
I thought maybe I shouldn’t do a Middle-aged Musings Monday because I took two days of Lame Post Friday last week. For another reason, I haven’t many musings to share. I just haven’t been musing much lately. All I can come up with is how when I was 20 I thought I’d have my act together when I was 30, and I think I’ve written about that before. Then again, it seems like three or four times a week I write about how I have nothing to write about, so obviously I’m not shy about repeating myself.
But apropos that, was is so great about having your act together? What does it even mean? In the ’70s there was a saying, “I finally got it all together and I forgot where I put it.” Do you personally know anybody that has their act together? And if so, is that a pleasant person to be around or is he or she just a little bit annoying? How many readers are out there right now with their nose in the air saying, “I have my act together, and I am not the least bit annoying.” Stop reading now! It will only lead to heartache! (Probably mine.)
I don’t really want anyone to stop reading, even if you do have or act together, or think you do.
Not everybody who thinks they have their act together actually does. I once spent a hideous two days with the most annoying soldier in the world (I have not met every soldier in the world and yet I say it with confidence). She said she wanted to meet the male PT (Physical Training) standards, because she didn’t want to be the girl holding up the unit because she couldn’t do everything the boys did. She said it snottier. Something like, “I’m not going to BE that soldier that somebody has to DO something for me.” (Have you ever noticed that when someone feels strongly about something, they don’t say, “I’m not going to do that.” They say, “I’m not going to BE that person.” I’ve done it myself. For some reason, it doesn’t annoy me when I do it.)
She voiced an admirable sentiment, I suppose. On the other hand, I’ve known plenty of female soldiers who made great contributions to their units without being able to do the same number of push-ups as some barrel-chested 19-year-old private.
Then annoying soldier realized she had locked her keys in her car, thus holding up me and two other NCOs as well as inconveniencing at least three or four civilians. I don’t think it ever occurred to her that this was the kind of shoddy lack of attention to detail that could have a highly detrimental effect on her unit.
I’m not saying I’m perfect, or even non-annoying. I’ve even locked my keys in the car on occasion. But I don’t brag on how high speed I am, never being a trouble to anyone (although apparently I feel free to brag on how I don’t brag; hey, did I not just say I’m not perfect?).
Maybe that is one definition of having your act together: not being a bother to others. Because you take care of your own shit. Well, let me be the first to point to myself and say, Act Not Together. Not even close. One could argue, however (there’s that argumentative One again), that we are put here to help one another. That sounds like a little half-baked philosophy suitable for Lame Post Friday. I will argue instead that one can strive to have bits and pieces of one’s act together on occasion. My current goal, therefore, is to get it together enough to have a real blog topic for tomorrow’s post. Stay tuned.
Mohawk Valley Girl 