I’m having a hard time writing this post because it’s about the tricks played by the unconscious mind.
As it happens, I have several events this week that have proven to me that I do not always know what my brain is thinking.
The above card is a good example of the way my brain works.
Earlier this week while cleaning up my scrap table I started playing with scraps and sewed the card together. I even put the “Inspiring” rubon on the bottom of it, but I really had no idea where the card was headed.
Yesterday I was getting ready to go to my scrapbook store and demonstrate the crop-o-dile* I wanted to find another example of the tool’s versatility, so I covered a chipboard “u” with paper and punch holes in it, threaded it with ribbon and attached it to the card. It was then I noticed the "u" and "inspiring" and the light bulb went off .. "u r inspiring".
People credit me with being a lot brighter than I really am because some part of my brain (I'm not sure if it's the left or the right) produces these little creative bursts without talking to the other part of my brain.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who has had this experience.
The other example of my brain work is not so pretty.
I’ve been feeling like a push me pull you at work since the old editor left and the new one was hired.
My old editor worked with my skills which, as it happens, is writting feature stories. The new editor is trying to make a hard news reporter out of me … it's been quite a struggle for both of us.
I know investigative reporting must be done, watchdog for the public and all that journalistic rot. But I really don’t like doing it, I’m not very good at it, and I'm think it is sometimes a little um, unnecessary.
Thursday after due prompting from the man I wrote another story and made a colossal mistake, the kind of mistake that has the superintendent of the school district (who happens to be my husband’s boss) calling me and telling me he is not happy, no, not happy at all.
By all rights I should be a quivering mess.
I owed up to the mistake, apologized to the head school guy, called my boss agreed that I had made a monumental assumption and eventually talked to the superintendent again and we appear to be friends again.
Through it all I felt, and I hate to say this but … vindicated? I knew deep in my little heart the pressure was going to get to me, I just didn’t know where or when. Now there has been a lovely little explosion and my fingers got singed.
May is shaping up to be a most interesting month.
*(a hole punching, eyelet setting tool that punches holes in everything from fabric to tin ~ really it does. I punched a hole in a clipboard with it last month!)