For much of my adult life I’ve wanted to write. Whenever my quirky, overly-active, analytical mind ponders great life lessons or silly, random anecdotes about the American experience, I’ve said to myself, “Cat, you should write about that!” When I tell the story of my unconventional life to friends, loved ones and even strangers, they say, “You should write about that!” For the last couple of years I’ve been in school my English and Speech Communications professors have both said to me, “Cat, you have the skills and talent to be a successful communicator, so just start writing!” My various law professors tell me that my legal writing is exemplary, and my research and analytical skills exceed all expectations. Even my ex-husband, who loathes me with his entire being, stated in our divorce documentation that my only two good qualities are that I’m an accomplished cook and a great writer! (He said in one of the last civil conversations we ever had, that I was “the smartest woman” he’d ever met. If you asked him now, I’m certain he’d say that never happened.) But I digress.
Oddly enough, it took a pandemic to finally get the time to start Chatty-Catty, the blog I’ve been thinking about for years. Funny, now that my computer screen is staring me in the face, I’m drawing a blank. It’s not because I don’t have anything to write about. On the contrary, there’s so much in my head that I don’t know where to start! Like all the transformative choices I’ve made in the last several years, I suppose I’ll do what I’ve always done in a pinch—simply take a leap of faith and dive right in…
As a majority of Americans are doing on Thursday, March 19, 2020, I’m sitting at home, writing my first blog post at age 61. (Yes, I really am that old!) I live on a very busy street, and at 2 p.m. on a normal Thursday with all the windows open, the sound of roaring traffic should be annoying me to no end. But today is not normal. In fact, the last week has brought us countless memes of morbidly obese Walmart shoppers coming to blows over the oddly coveted 24-pack of toilet paper. I suppose you could say that Coronavirus Madness Syndrome (I just made that up) has literally scared the shit out of them! I expect that after the COVID-19 pandemic fizzles out, social epidemiologists studying this phenomenon will publish volumes about how fear of the unknown can drive humans insane!
For me, I suppose I’m fortunate to be able to relax for a minute because my employer, the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston, has vowed to pay its hourly Nutrition Program employees at least until April 10 when the Galveston-Houston Catholic schools are slated to reopen. I pray that if the closures extend beyond that, The Church will pay us until school ends in late May, when I’m officially out of work until September. I suppose that at this minute if I was pressed to ponder the upside of this rampant epidemic, I’d have to say that for the first time I have the time to live my lifetime dream of becoming a full-fledged writer.
Because I’ve given myself a preliminary goal of keeping blog posts to 600 words or less, I’ll finish by saying that I’m fearful of the future, but excited that I’ve finally begun writing. Officially. Stay tuned for more, as this little blog will give me the creative outlet I require, and the practice I need to write my legal blog that’s next on the agenda.
I suppose I’ll sign off by borrowing a line from the great Michael Medved, syndicated radio talk show host, “I am not a victim!
Ta-ta for now!
Chatty-Catty