Day 17: Writing Workshop

I made it to the writing workshop on time ... despite losing the car keys.

I didn't bring a pen or a notebook. All I could find were a few gold Sharpies and some sheets of computer paper. For the record, gold Sharpies are completely useless.

I did bring two extension cords, an external hard drive, a flashlight, a fork, and lots of dog poo bags. 

Don't ask.

It was a snowy, slippery morning. There was at least one accident on the bridge.
The whole way there I prayed...

Please let this be the right church.

I always get Sunset Church and Smythe Street Cathedral mixed up.

I think it's because they both start with "S".

Side Note:

Once I almost missed a Matthew West concert because I tried to find Sunset Church on the GPS.

It never occurred to me that it might be located on Sunset Drive.
I DO know where that is. 

I was on a dirt road in the middle of the forest when it declared, "Turn left. Begin off-roading."

I seriously considered it. 

At that time, I had lived in Fredericton for almost twenty years. 

I pulled into Smythe Street Cathedral with my fingers crossed. But when I saw the middle-aged women scrambling out of their cars and flocking into the church with their overstuffed handbags, I knew I was in the right place.

I belonged. 

It's funny who you click with. Ninety percent of my friends are seniors. I wouldn't trade them for the world.

I never feel quite at home with people my own age. 
Most days I feel like an old woman in a young body.
I suppose that's better than the reverse...

Have you ever seen the McGyver episode where the beautiful young scientist shrivels up and dies of old age within a matter of minutes?

.....

At the workshop, every woman (and one brave man) was given a word for the year.

Mine was: ACCEPTANCE. 

We were told to compose a short piece about what our word meant to us. This is mine:

Acceptance means acknowledging and embracing where I am in my journey today. It means that I admit to my flaws and believe that I am still worthy of love.

I accept that the finish line may not be where I think it is. Or it may not be there at all. Or it may be there, but I will never reach it. Everyone has their own finish line.

Acceptance does not mean that I don't plan to change. I do. But acceptance is the beginning of growth. Without acceptance, I cannot move forward. 

We also had to write down our earliest memory. Apparently, I have always loved animals:

I remember chasing geckos. It was night. The streetlight cast an orange glow on the cement walls of the basketball court at the end of our street. Trucks rumbled in the distance. Palm trees rustled in the wind. We were safe in our own little corner of the big, dark world.  

My father held me in his arms. Slick black shapes raced up and down the cement as I tried to touch them. Catch them. Take them home to be my pets.

I always missed. But I was laughing.

The workshop was totally worth the thirty bucks. (The free lunch was pretty good, too.)

Back in the real world, I accomplished three things:

• I submitted my Joy FM design via email - well before the February 8 deadline!
• I submitted my 1000 Awesome Things paragraph - their website link was working.
• I rewrote the first part of of my picture book and submitted it to my proofreader - thanks, Mom!

I didn't write any more on my Plugged In review. 

I also have a review of Laurie Halse Anderson's Wintergirls due in ten days. 
I have tons of bills to pay ... I hate January!

And tomorrow just happens to be my favorite day of the week...

Monday.

Happy Monday, everyone! 

At least we can all be miserable together. 

Albert Einstein. 

Drawn during grade 12 pre-calculus. 

In pen. 

Do you really think I'd find a pencil in time for math class?