Confession Tuesday - The Trash Edition

If tomorrow is trash day… this must be Confession Tuesday. Come with me to the confessional.


Dear Reader~


If I may speak of trash day for a moment… I confess to having missed paying the trash bill. This of course leads to no trash pick up. We should be good tomorrow, but the trash man will get an extra dose of trash. ~0~


The yesterday in a conversation with a co-worker there was a discussion of food people stay away from. I confess, as I did then, that there are a number of food items I will not eat. To name a few, mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise (don’t even like to say that word… it creeps me out) to name a few. I don’t do toad stools – they are fungus for God’s sake. There are more, but you get the picture. I confess that I may be an OCD food person. Let me go further on this point. When eating food on my plate, I will often stick to finishing on dish before moving on to the next. Especially if there is something I’m crazy over on the menu. If this is the case, I confess that I don’t want to share my taste buds with anything but that food. I will often save it till last and not for example meander all over the plate, a bite of corn, a taste of roll and then onto another. I prefer not to commingle my food that way. Odd, I know. ~0~


Feeling the obligation to speak of poetry here, and since I am confessing, I am a NaPoWrMo failure for 2010. I’m raising my hand as I confess so that all may see. (Woof whistle) “Yeah, over here, I’m talking about ME!” Last week I threw in the towel and said f*** it.


You see, I had gotten behind a day and continued running behind a day for about three days and was not happy with what I was writing anyway, so I just decided the world was not going to end if I stopped. Little did I know, my wife was going to miss reading them. She sent me an e-mail to that effect and I then stopped and wrote one and sent it to her.


I’ve written since, I just am not following the prompts from “poetic asides” which I was not as impressed with this year as last. It seemed like everything was something (filling the blank) or (fill in the blank) something. I’m not trying to blame the prompt maker for my failure; I’m just saying this didn’t add much extra incentive to remain committed to the write.


So there you have it… standing bare before you… you see me as I am.