Today’s lovely essay from Brevity Blog guru, Dinty W. Moore (one of my literary heroes), hits at the perfect time.
I recently saw my own buttocks in the mirror, a sort of fleeting what-was-that which caused me a double and then a triple-take. Goodness.
See, I’d stopped exercising for over a month because lazy. And I wasn’t in the best shape before I stopped, either. But to all of a sudden be confronted with a bottom that was no longer cute and perky, but very much the booty of a nearly-forty-six-year-old woman accustomed to reading and writing and eating all day, with the appropriate dimples and jiggly-ness was a bit…huh.
There are some things that need to sit awhile, like the angry email I’m glad I deleted rather than sending, or the memoir I’ve been not working on the past year while I try to determine just what it is I’m missing about it.
There are other things that need not be ignored, like my ass.
It is time for edit 5M.2.0 on my caboose. And I should probably get back to that languishing memoir….


