When the Mirror is Enough

The dark, bitter smell of smoke lingers in the air as Humphrey Bogart and Mary Astor spar for the heart of a falcon… the Maltese Falcon, to be exact.

Even the scoundrel Frank is mesmerized by the classic movie as it rolls across my television screen.

Engrossed so completely in the film, my specter of imminent failure fails to notice my nudging the couch toward the front door… the same sofa he’s called home for well over a month now, languishing deep within its cushions while spitting foul and hurtful near-truths in my face.

*grunt*

*grunt*

*nudge*

Well, it’s finally time to dump his ghoulish butt out into the gutter! I just have to get the blubbery bastard to the front door. Hence the sly though fervent nudging.

After weeks of his dastardly presence, why am I now finally kicking the s.o.b. to the curb? How can I even dare try when Writhe (the 15^th novel spark for his boorish visit) has yet to have a cover or a release date?  Don’t I risk Frank, more hateful and spiteful than ever, barging right back into my life when Writhe finally takes its initial bow on the literary (um, romantic smut) stage?  

The answer to one and all of the above questions is a simple, “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

I’m tired of gloom and doom bringing my spring down.

I’m sick and tired of having failure stare me in the face every moment of every day. I face up to failure (both real and imagined) every time I look in the darn mirror. I don’t need its stench following me to my couch. Isn’t wrestling with failure every single night in my dreams enough?

Yes!

It is enough.

More than enough.

Too much really but doable.

I’m a scrappy ol’ bird, despite all evidence to the contrary.

I can take failure, but I will not take failure on my damn sofa one more day!

Of course I’m whispering all of this so Frank can’t hear. (SIDE NOTE: this is a prime example of “evidence to the contrary”)

*sighs*

But still I nudge.

And as long as Humphrey Bogart keeps playing it cool, I’ll keep nudging…

After all, isn’t that “the stuff that dreams are made of?”  (That right there is a “Maltese Falcon” quote, folks. See how I’ve tied all this up into a pretty tight bow? Yeah, I’m good. *lol*)

Until tonight…

Chloe