Linda Scribbles











{November 1, 2018}   All Hallow’s Read 2018

I have (late as ever) A GIFT for you all!  Not as much finished as I would have preferred, but I’m honestly just super jazzed to have anything to post.  I say it every year, but heck, why not– This is what I get for waiting ’til the last minute to do my writing!  It’s there for your reading pleasure, anyway.

One super silly:  How Rude

One a tiny snapshot:  For Who

Hope everyone’s had a lovely and safe Halloween adventure evening!  I love you all!  Please stay as safe as can be.

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{July 25, 2018}   In a fit of writing

I haven’t worked too much on anything major, but I’m trying to be better about collecting the tiny things that keep piling up in my desk and my backpack and pockets.  (I’ve already sent at least one thing through the wash, though.)  Exhaustion and depression slammed me hard the last couple of days, and while I had a feeling something might come to be afoot, I was not expecting it to be nearly so rough, so of course I hadn’t warned anyone, hadn’t arranged anything to take care of myself, just generally hadn’t bothered, aaaaand it has not been the best.  So I did that to myself.  And a couple of poor, unsuspecting favorite people.  I don’t know how they love me, but I’m learning not to question it too hard if they insist on sticking with me even through something like this.  That being said, I do not want to repeat this show.  Having a plan is HIGHLY IMPORTANT, gang.  For the love of all that is good in this world, have a plan.

I’ve been walking around with a lamb plushie for two days now, because it’s soft and cute and I need all the help I can get right now.  Is it probably weird to bring an emotional support lamb to work with me?  Oh, yeah, totally, but here we are.  No one’s actually said anything about it, though, so I’m not sure if they haven’t noticed or are just kind of used to me?  I suppose it works out either way.  It’s doing what I need it to do.  This is fine.

But this is not why we’re here!  In the midst of all this, I was taken with a fit of writing.  Which then, of course, meant I had to start sorting through the nest of ink bled into scraps of dead tree shavings that is my life or risk becoming a fire hazard (like my entire office isn’t pretty much alreadyyyyy).  Here’s what I’ve pulled for your viewing pleasure.

Okay, cool.  Glad we had this talk.

Can we just have the quiet bit of adventure now, please?  Pretty please?



{January 8, 2018}   In which I was mildly productive

I’ve been trying to keep my tiny scattered things a touch less scattered, but I am a constant mess, so there’s that.  All the same, I’ve collected a few new ones here again.  Have at them.

Today is the bit where we trudge through the adventure.  I’ve forgotten my tea ball.  Definitely a trudging bit of the adventure.



So it’s been a while. (Apparently, yes, all my blog posts will start this way now.)  The wordpress swears it’s been 9 months.  I could have grown a baby in that time.  I did not.  There is not a baby.  Except I wrote something that is longer than a line for the first time in a while.  After failing miserably to keep chugging along on the last few things, I thought I should share.  I offer it to you.  Because space.

I really shouldn’t say I failed, because that implies that I’ve given up and have zero intention of touching those things again.  I haven’t.  I have all of the intention.  I will touch them firmly, tenderly, with love.  My friend got me thinking about how I’ve never attempted a romance novel.  I’m trying to figure out if I could write one, just to see.  I’ve read a couple of supernatural romance books?  Are those typical romance?  I don’t really know if I can deal with it.  Maybe I’ll just write a story and romance will just kind of happen.  This probably won’t end well.  ONE THING AT A TIME.  Soooo, yes, intentions.  Which amount to very little if I don’t actually, you know, pick up a freaking pen.

Am I scared of pens now?

Two jobs briefly became just the one full-time job at the print shop where once I was a little work-study, by the way.  And now it seems I’m working two jobs again as the Chinese restaurant is ever short handed, so I’m there once a week.  Which I’m okay with, because you can see all kinds of things in how people interact where a meal is involved.  Also, I like having the extra cash.  And exciting lunches that I’m never certain of what they’re made.  I like both jobs, but I should probably push to keep it to the one.  I’m tired a lot.

To be fair, I have picked up pens.  I’ve sat and written snippets of sentences before I got– stuck, for lack of a better word.  It’s not like there isn’t a lot in my head.  It’s more like everything gets kind of muddled, or the thoughts get nervous and confused, like birds that suddenly get disoriented, and then they can’t remember how to get out.  And I can’t do anything except keep poking them with a stick through the slats of their little bird house trying to organize them and direct them toward the door.  They’re not being very cooperative.

I thought about buying really cute stationary in order to motivate myself, but I’d never use it.  I’d want to keep it clean and safe and save it for just the right thoughts, and I’d go find sticky notes that would inevitably get jumbled up or lost or eaten by the cat.  Maybe I’ll buy cute sticky notes.

I was researching getting help, and then there were kidney stones and work and life.  It’s a funny sensation to try to analyze everything going on around you, all the choices you’re making about whether or not and how to engage in those things, to determine if you’re not making excuses to not get help out of fear or stubbornness (what am I even being stubborn about?), and then deciding that, “No, everything here looks like a completely rational decision,” only to then think that of course everything would seem very rational to yourself if you’re the one who rationalized your choices in order to make them in the first place.  Just because they’re rational doesn’t mean they’re not coming from that cave or fear and stubbornness and not actually 100% rational at all.

My mother likes to quote “Lion King” at times like this.  LIE DOWN BEFORE YOU HURT YOURSELF.

Sounds legit.  Point being, I’m not dead yet.  Adventuring continues.



et cetera
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