1. Finish my statement for the upcoming sentencing hearing.
2. Get a cute photo celebrating my first ever payment for my writing.
My only two Monday goals.
I failed on both counts.
After more than half a dozen hours working on my statement, it’s still not done. I thought I was done, until I read it with fresh eyes. It needs a lot of work. I cut some paragraphs. Moved stuff around. Examined my word choice. This is my only time to make my thoughts and desires known to the judge. I need it to be amazing. I still have 7.5 pages to edit. And it needs to be completely finished by Wednesday night. Dave is helping me, because he’s a wordsmith and loves editing. I haven’t edited since I stopped teaching. All my work in the past 6 years has been grossly unedited and slightly neurotic and full of meandering. I’ve never actually watched Dave edit before last night. It’s part of his job, but it’s not like I keep one of those video baby monitors in his hybrid-cubicle at the office. I was pretty impressed. And a tad annoyed. Which is normal, when the person you love most on the entire planet is finding fault with your work. I knew I needed more polish, less raw. But he made it bleeeeed. I actually love him more for it. It takes guts to edit your wife. Who’s been up since 5am. And is under so much stress she might actually implode.
Since I spent my day working with the worst content matter imaginable, I forgot to take my cute photo. I was going to shower, do my hair, get dressed, and do something pinterest-y. But, in Lyndse fashion, none of that happened. I decided that done was better than perfect. So I snapped a selfie at 2am. In Dave’s t-shirt. Hair crazy and unwashed. Eyes excited, because I made $75 whole dollars.
Then I drank my first alcoholic beverage. I sipped some beer the night Bob died, but last night was my very first drink. A hard cider. Well, about 4 oz of one. Dave brought it to me and we clinked the glasses and everything. A paid writer. I get goosebumps. I’m 32 years old and I honestly didn’t think anyone would ever pay me for my ramblings.
At least my day matched my current life season. Never going according to plan, messy, down-to-the-wire, authentic, so very far from perfect. But with Dave by my side in all of it. I love him so much.