I might have hit an all time record today with posts that will forever live in the draft list.

I have written about Marlo Thomas in a tone that was too sicky sweet.

Remember this?

So his father bought him a basketball

A badminton set, and that’s not all

A bag of marbles, a baseball glove

And all the things a boy would love

And Bill was good at every game

Enjoyed them all, but all the same

When Billy’s father praised his skill

“Can I please have a doll now,” said my friend Bill

I have written about a documentary that I saw last night where I confirmed that I am a racist. I left with my mind spinning and a greater sense of hopelessness than before. The post I almost finished made me sound like a reductionist asshole so I scrapped it. There was one good part about a cross’ armpit. I guess you need to read it.

I started describing the two books on habits that I am reading simultaneously and how they led me to delete all of the games from my phone. Goodbye candy crush, goodbye 2048 and my magnificent high score, goodbye clash of clans and paradise bay, goodbye Pet Rescue and Farm Heroes and that other farming game whose name I never learned. Goodbye time suck, and goodbye mini-breaks. Goodbye distractions good and bad. Forget the brilliant studies and inspirational descriptions that led to the demise of my games. Just know that they are gone, and so is my escape from my own brain, and the doctor’s waiting room, and the boys’ whining. I’m just going to have to find another way to detach. It is like physical withdrawal. But I have never read more New York Times headlines than I have in the past 48 hours. Which is both a good and a bad thing. I scrapped those games, which means I have to be a bit scrappy with my free time.

I scrapped the fifth sex post in as many weeks. It just gets boring. The writing I mean. Obviously.

I didn’t even leave the post I started about the IRS in the draft folder. It is totally gone. Summary: I won my 2012 audit, but the victory is short lived because the 2014 tax extension is crashing and burning.

All of this virtual wadded up paper brings to mind a video that my friend shared about privilege. I am totally sitting in the front row. But I have such bad aim that my paper ball may not make it into the recycling. Which means I can smooth it out and try again.

Please watch the video with your kids. So maybe there is a reason this post didn’t end up in the draft folder as well.

 

 

 

The following two tabs change content below.
Anna Rosenblum Palmer is a freelance writer based in Denver, CO. She writes about sex, parenting, cat pee, bi-polar disorder and the NFL; all things inextricably intertwined with her mental health. In her free time she teaches her boys creative swear words, seeks the last missing puzzle piece and thinks deeply about how she is not exercising. Her writing can be found on Babble, Parent.co, Great Moments in Parenting, Ravishly, Good Men Project, Sammiches and Psych Meds, Playpen, Crazy Good Parent, and YourTango. She also does a fair amount of navel gazing on her own blog at annarosenblumpalmer.com.

Latest posts by Anna Palmer (see all)