Globe and Mail

Pass me a paper bag.

Saturday I started to hyperventilate. 

I saw a front-page headline in the Globe and Mail about Laureen Harper, wife of Conservative Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper.

She’s no Michelle Obama – and that’s how she likes it. I doubt she said that.

New Years Again or “I want to be a dentist”

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is one of my favourite xmas stories. I love Hermey the elf who wants to be a dentist. Arguably I’m a dentist who wants to be an elf. But I envy his chutzpah and spirit of adventure. He may be animated, but he’s inspirational. (I’m pretty sure he’s Jewish - that angst is so familiar. But he wasn't out.

At Home in My Blog

Sometimes I worry my little blog doesn’t get enough of my attention. Not that I’m feeding it less, just that it’s taking up less space in my brain.

Firing off in all directions or Avoiding one basket

This isn’t the first time I’ve discussed my compulsion to genre hop. Nothing as dire as drug or alcohol addiction. Maybe more akin to buying too many shoes. I self-diagnosed, and  determined I have Distraction Compulsion Disorder (DCD). But focused DCD.

Not the Plan

Got into my running gear this morning with a plan. Walked my kid to school and ran into the moms in the schoolyard. I’ve always had this secret feeling there’s a mom gang that I’m not part of, and while they are always friendly when I walk up, I suspect they have mom-gang plans they wait until I've left to execute.

Pull up a seat

When I first decided to take a year off to write I figured now there’s something people might be interested in. I should propose to the Globe and Mail, the Star, even the Post, to write a weekly column about the trials and tribulations of one bureaucrat (with A.D.D) trying to get started as a writer. It would be like reality TV, The Biggest Loser, that sort of thing and at the end you’d find out if it worked or not and whether any publisher was remotely interested in what I was doing.

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