Write on! “I deserve . . .”

  My  inner 7 year old slightly rebelled at this assignment from my new writing class.

A Serious Assignment for the Deserving

(prompt: start the story with “I deserve . . .”)

By judy Westerfield

     I deserve to be punished for my sins which are the following — Jennifer stopped writing. She mindlessly scratched Trotter, curled up next to her, behind his ears with one hand while the other hand pushed the eraser end of the pencil in her cheek — the part of her cheek she checked every day to see if she had a dimple yet. Like the dimple her best friend Carmen had.

     She read which are the following” out loud. Grown up words, and sin was a grown-up subject. A good way to start so the teacher would know she took the assignment seriously.

     Deserve . . . she thought hard, rearranged the pillows, propped herself up on the bed startling Trotter who rearranged himself and curled up again.

I deserve to be punished for my sins which are the following–

   #1. I ate my brother Josh’s Jelly Bellys and said he was lying when he told Mom.

  #2. I hit my brother Rick and told Mom he hit me

  #3. I watched my brother Sean kiss his girlfriend.

 Carmen agreed with her, it was a stupid assignment writing ten things you “deserve”. The teacher said it had to be about “deserve”, not about what mattered, like what you want or what you need. Carmen called it estúpido. And it was hard to figure out what qualified as a sin. Jennifer squinted wondering if calling the teacher’s assignment stupid was sinful.

   #4. I deserve to have my own room and not have to share it with my s stoopido sister Becca.

   #5. I deserve to be punished if it’s a sin calling my sister and this assignment stupid.

     She flipped open her i-pad and Googled “deserve” — “to merit or have a claim to reward, punishment . . . because of circumstances: to deserve a pay raise; to deserve exile.

   #6. I deserve a pay raise because I need more money to buy things.

   #7. I deserve to have my sister and brothers exiled so I can be an only child.

      She added exiled to Alaska.

   Trotter nudged her, rolled over on his back, signaling time to scratch him on the stomach and think some more — If her mom and dad really loved her they would give her everything she deserved. It wasn’t fair her sister and brothers deserved a bigger helping of dessert, or deserved to stay up late or deserved their own room, just because they were older. It wasn’t fair and proof her parents loved them more.        

   #8. I deserve to get a good grade for this assignment.

     Scratching Trotter with one hand, she tapped out a text message to Carmen with the other: need 2 mor deservs txt me yurz

how du u spel s stoopido

"There she goes . . . again"

“There she goes . . . again”

Am I Whining? you bet!

“Thou Shalt Not Whine”  is a hand embroidered sign in my office that was given to me by my good friend Sharon.

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I do try to live up to that motto but today I am whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiining.   I have a headache, my body aches all over, my feet are burning, my brain is fogged and the only energy I had was depleted by the effort it took me to get in bed and take a nap*.  Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!  Woe is me! Oh! woe is me!

"I'm not lissssssstening"

“I’m not lissssssstening”

Like all (or many) of us living with chronic conditions the key is life-style management to keep the symptoms at a low simmer instead of a rolling boil.  In the last several decades I’ve perfected life-style management:

judy’s Life-Style Management 

Overdo it quick

take advantage of the lull

then crash, moan and groan.

Whimper quietly

when no one is listening

It’s free therapy

1024px-Crying-girl

Did whining make me feel better?  Nope.  But it’s nice to know that even if I’m not feeling well

 my inner child is alive and kicking.

 *You don’t have to wash your hands after reading this post.  I’m not contagious.  It’s just fibromyalgia letting me know who’s in charge.