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The Carrot

I am going to scream.

One, after swearing to my boss, my friends, my family, myself, and to the high heavens that I wasn't going to keep working these 80-hour weeks, I was in the studios late again tonight, didn't get home until midnight. I started before 9 this morning. That already put me into a sour state of mind.

Two, after I got here and had pounded out and nearly finished an entry to this diary, I hit the wrong key and lost it all. In the larger scope of things, hardly life-shattering, but I was exercising every pithy expression I knew, just the same.

Three, it's a week later and I still haven't penned a single word to a project I absolutely must do. It isn't that my boss is standing over me with a whip on this one. (Seduction wouldn't help his case, anyway.) This is my life-long dream, dropped into my lap, separate and apart from my 'day' job in miniscule-market radio. I was handed the writers' equivalent of the golden goose and Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory and Cinderella's slipper - okay, scratch the last one, I really don't have a shoe fetish and at the moment I'm feeling none too keen on men in general, prince or no prince.

If you believe in God (and I do), there are times I feel like He's got a carrot out there and I am one very tired mule. After so long, I stopped chasing that damned carrot. So He replaced it with an apple and held it a fraction of an inch closer. I chased that until I realized that out of reach is still out of reach. Next came something I like more, etc. Well, a while back I hit the point that I wasn't going to chase anything any more, no matter what.

But it gets tough to ignore and refuse when the prize is literally handed to you. And this one pretty much slapped me in the face upon arrival. Only one little problem. The string is still attached. There is always a string attached.





I can't quit my job, though it's tempting. I swore I was going to do this, was going to write my novel, but that's just more self-delusion. It can't happen. There's some law of physics about time being a universal constant. I can't stretch and mold it to accommodate the demands of my life, no matter how hard I try.

So instead, I am going to bitch to my diary, eat leftover trick-or-treat candy, and get up in the morning and go back to work, on my 'day off', because it has to be done and the boss doesn't know HOW. Then I get to drive a three-hour round trip to Phoenix to pick up computer parts. Of course the three hours doesn't count 'whine time' from my daughter, who has again hit me up for money.

Welcome to the glamorous world of radio. We're hiring at a station near you.

Before - After

In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )