20 Bomb-Ass Reasons I haven't written a post in three weeks

20 Bomb-Ass Reasons I haven't written a post in three weeks

Hey, everyone! Hope your summer has been as fresh and funky as a 90’s sitcom. 

When OSM returned in February (whut) I committed to a column a week, yet in August I only managed to post on the 1st and the 13th. WTH? SMH. So now I’d like to explain why OSM has been MIA, OK? TY.

1. I spent some writing time conducting an unscientific experiment to determine whether playing hours of Candy Crush (jelly version only) could be as equally rewarding as writing. (findings: TRUE)

2. I wrote a post that thanked people for reading my work – but that post sucked. Why would I thank my readers with a shitty column?

3. I had a dream I gave birth to ten pieces of bacon and only four survived and I had to think about that one for a while.

4. I have empirical evidence that proves I’m only capable of doing four of the following five things at any given period of time: eating well, being productive at my job, keeping a tidy house, exercising, and consistent work on a creative endeavor. I ran a couple of times AND cleaned up the cat puke off the floor last week so…do the math.


5. Used some write time to surprise my son with a Cubs game despite having lost Chicago baseball team fan rights in the split. My kiddo is an unenthusiastic Sox fan who doesn’t really give a crap about baseball but nevertheless enjoyed his time in the Friendly Confines with his Mom last week.

6. Out of the blue I decided I neeeeeded to shoot a couple of rolls of film to improve my digital photography so I ordered an old Konica film rangefinder off eBay, used some writing time to shoot a roll of film, then sent it away to be developed. Didn’t improve my photography one bit but was still totally worth it.


7. The Konica turned gateway drug and I used about three writing hours scouring eBay for the camera I think Santa should bring me: a Fed rangefinder. Red. 

I'd made out with this camera, man.

I’d make out with this camera, man.

8. I used an hour of writing time to ponder whether I should buy passports “just in case” or splurge for a brand new air conditioner to keep my son, my dog, and one of the two cats safe when the earth starts to roast us like baked chicken in the next couple of years. #Kendallisajerk

9. A good friend was recently diagnosed with breast cancer and so I used an hour or two to stare at the wall and really let that sink in.

10. In the wake of that gut-punching news about my friend’s diagnosis, I traded a night of writing time for Quality Time with my kid and offered to listen to him tell me everything he knows about Fortnite. Four writing hours: gone.

11. Inspired by fear as I approach my annual mammogram month, I tried to find a new Doctor on my insurance’s website and a hospital in network that will do 3D scans. There went a whole day of writing, plus an extra 30 minutes lost to tempering my “ADD primal rage” with gratuitous Google searches for “brain transplants” (Still not possible, btw)

12. Every once in a while I think, “Who really gives a shit if even one more person writes even one more word when there are plenty of things out there to read, already? Have you SEEN the bookshelves in a library? At book fairs? Holy moly, what’s one more stack of paragraphs in the annals of word stuff?” and then it’s back to Candy Crush jelly version.

13. I cancelled two days of writing to take my son – the world’s biggest “Greatest Showman” fan – to Baraboo, Wisconsin to see the Circus World Museum.  


14. I suppose I could have written a piece while staying in the hotel in Baraboo but instead my son and I joined forces with a complete stranger and spent 45 minutes in the hotel pool attempting to volley an abandoned beach ball 100 times without it ever hitting the water. (Update: we succeeded with 105 consecutive taps at 10:58 PM: two minutes before it was closed for the night, woot)


15. I started writing a post called Screw Disneyworld! The Circus Museum in Baraboo Wisconsin is where the real magic is at but then stopped because check-out was at 11AM. (In a nutshell: If you are at all proficient at suspension of disbelief, or if you enjoy mental time traveling, then experiencing the Gavioli Band organ in person is worth the price of admission. )


16. I gladly shut down the mental writing lab for a few hours here and there to be in conversations with a dear friend who is grieving after her husband fell off the developmental bridge between Boy and Man and DUDE IF YOU ARE READING THIS YOU MUST BE A SUBSCRIBER BECAUSE I UNFRIENDED YOUR ASS ON FACEBOOK BECAUSE SHE DESERVED WAY BETTER THAN THAT EVEN IF LEAVING WAS ULTIMATELY THE RIGHT DECISION JESUS H BUT SERIOUSLY THANKS FOR SUBSCRIBING IT TRULY DOES MEAN THE WORLD TO ME.

17. I abandoned writing for a few hours to take my son to the Big Dumb Fun Mall to shop for new school clothes and since the headlines are rotting from the top down and because I lead a slip-on kind o’ life I didn’t see any good reason NOT to buy that pair of least-ugly black crocs for myself FIGHT ME.


18. But the truest truth is that I’m spending about ten hours a week shooting and editing football games for a local youth organization. And since I’m being paid for those pictures and I’m not currently being paid for my work as a word ninja, I am camera first, keyboard second because someone has to pay for that apocalyptic air-conditioner.

Fingers crossed, this photog side hustle will most likely continue through the end of football season, so have some patience with me. A weekly column might not be in the cards unless I can find a time/space portal that delivers extra hours to my day.


These days the ONLY thing I don’t like about sports photography is the thought of wearing those big ugly bibs on the sideline of NFL games. Just….why??

19. RELATED: I lost a couple of late night scribin’ hours driving my car to the suburbs and back last week.  After seven brutal, steamy hours of shooting middle school football in EZ bake oven conditions, I accidentally left my “for-the-price-of-a-cheap-used-car” camera lens in the school parking lot.

So at 9:30 PM I frantically retraced the 39 miles back to the suburbs and holy shit it was still there because who in an affluent suburb is going to bother trying to sell a used 15 lb lens on eBay when shipping alone would kill any profits.


20. ALSO RELATED:  ADD is real, y’all, and it can be an even bigger bitch than me.


That’s my piece, and that’s my peace. Thanks so much for taking the time to read my silly words. It truly means the world to me. Carry on…


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Filed under: blah blah blah, lists, Photography

Tags: bomb-ass

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