Catching Idle Butterflies

Study Me!

Dave read a book once on circus freaks. It was an old book, full of grainy black and white photos of what nature can sometimes do to a human body. It also included stories of how these people came to the circus.

I also read parts of this book, and what struck me was the similarity of attitudes between the so-called freaks. They loved what they did; they took pride in showing their individuality and uniqueness to others. Now there were some horror stories of mistreatment (think Joseph Merrick a.k.a. The Elephant Man), but at least in this book, such maltreatment was more the exception than the rule. Most of the freaks (and they were proud to call themselves such) made excellent money exhibiting themselves, and were treated almost like royalty in many places. Granted, they could do little else. They lived in an era when ‘normal’ people considered them less than human, and unable to do what the rest of humanity could.

Now I could continue this entry about how we can emulate these circus freaks by embracing our individuality and uniqueness, but I’m not. Well, at least not directly.

I decided I need to put myself on display. Yep, scientists should be clamoring to study me. Why? I have a knack for discovering new diseases, and I suffer from all of them. Some examples I’ve written about: Red and Yellow Polka Dotted Eyeball Syndrome, Blog Bingeitis, Emotional Vampirism, Dunderhead Disease, Amoebified Brain, the list does go on!

I got another one! It’s called Procrastinitis Disorder. I’m sure you all recognize it, because everyone has it in one form or another. It’s also a virus, one that flares up like a cold sore but never truly goes away. You might go weeks or months with no symptoms, then bam you can’t get the things done you need to, coming up with some of the lamest excuses possible, doing instead things that can wait.

It’s all my hubby’s fault I’m not getting the writing done I should. Yep, he suffers from this disease as well, and he is enduring a massive flare up now, making it very contagious. I caught it within two days. He’s supposed to be redoing our kitchen counters, and let’s just say we’ve had to do our dishes in the bathroom for the last two weeks. Wee. I told him yesterday I’m glad he hired a company to build our garage, because it would never get done if he tried!

I’m not too worried (about my flare up, that is). It comes with being a writer. Jerry Jenkins at the conference even said, “A writer who doesn’t procrastinate isn’t a real writer.” He added it can be a good thing, because it gives our mind time to subconsciously work out problems of existing stories, and come up with new ideas.

The only cure (however temporary) for this disorder is Discipline. I know, terrible word. But like any medicine, though it’s bitter and burns going down, it works.

Does anyone have some spare Discipline handy? I can't find a smidgeon of my own.