Writing when you don't feel like writing. That's what daily writing is about. Let's commit to 7 days of writing and finish!
LET'S WRITE: Day 6 - Flipping the Bill (Warning: Adult Language)
By Matthew L. Hart
Writer & Humorist
Author of:
Uncle Matty's Halloween: Jokes, Bits & Anecdotes
Now I'm flinging my arms out in front of me. I'm in trouble.
"And, I was like, 'Fuck you!' I mean. I didn't say it, but, I was really going to enjoy this."
I adjusted myself to get more comfortable. My heart pounded as I relived the moment.
"I plugged my laptop into the podium and fired up my slide show. I won't bore you with the details, but basically, I told those stiff collared assholes that we where drinking champagne and losing our shirts."
"And, did you call them, Assholes?"
The woman shifted in her seat.
"In no uncertain terms." I said. "But, I think I got my point across. And, the look on Margaret's face. That made it so worth it."
I glanced over my shoulder at the woman behind me.
"And, that bitch didn't know what hit her."
Margaret contained her rage behind a toothy smile. "Thank you, Bill, for that pointed presentation." She walked around the table to meet me at the podium. With her hand on my shoulder, she ushered me towards the door. "I'll need to discuss the details of your presentation with you, after the meeting. If you would wait for me in my office, please."
"Sure thing, Boss." I said "Enjoy those oranges. Only six ninety nine a bag, across the street."
Margaret closed the door behind me.
I'll primarily be using The Writer's Toolbox by Jamie Cat Callan to prompt my 7 day writing challenge but feel free to do yours however you'd like.
7 Day Writing Challenge:
Day 6 - Journal Entry
I can't believe it's already day 6! I feel like I've just gotten started. Especially with this blog. It's still early in its creation and I've been flirting with the format a bit. I definitely recommend starting a blog if you want to write every day. The accountability of it has really pulled me through this 7 day challenge. Also, I think that it's important to see me doing the things I suggest. It's easy to read a book, watch a video or come up with some tips on how you can do the thing but, now you can see that I actually do the things that I teach. Most of my inspiration comes out of how to writing books which are full of useful exercises. I sincerely believe that by practacing with these exercises, my writing has become a lot better. Also, by writing every day, it is becoming a lot easier to sit down and focus. This blog has been essential for that. I hope you are enjoying what I'm doing here and I invite you to be a part of it. Start your own blog and share your work. I'd love to read what you're working on as well. Let's start a conversation.
First Sentence Stick:
"On Tuesday, Margaret told me she liked the little oranges with the seeds better than the ones I bought. I hated her for that."
On Tuesday, Margaret told me she liked the little oranges with the seeds better than the ones I bought. I hated her for that. Nobody really likes being told what to do. It's even worse when they disguise it as a favor. I think that's why most people don't like their Boss.
Now, it's Friday. I've been suspended from work and was talking to my Anger Management counselor. It was only our second session but, I just went with it. I'm so tired of fighting. Besides, I'm not flipping the bill so, who cares, right?
"So, then, Margaret asks me, 'Do me a favor. Buy some of those little oranges for the meeting at three,' "
I crossed the room. Very modern. Clean. I sat on the couch.
"So, now, I'm like, her little fucking errand boy, or something." I said.
Now, it's Friday. I've been suspended from work and was talking to my Anger Management counselor. It was only our second session but, I just went with it. I'm so tired of fighting. Besides, I'm not flipping the bill so, who cares, right?
"So, then, Margaret asks me, 'Do me a favor. Buy some of those little oranges for the meeting at three,' "
I crossed the room. Very modern. Clean. I sat on the couch.
"So, now, I'm like, her little fucking errand boy, or something." I said.
"I see." The woman said. She jotted a quick note on her legal pad.
I laid down on the couch.
"So, I go down the elevator. Twelve floors. Across the street. In the rain. And, I grab a bag of those um, little oranges? Tangerines. And, of course, they're in a bin at the back of the store."
I sit up again, twisting around to talk over my shoulder.
"And, it's not like there's any other choice, right? There's only one kind of little oranges back there. And, I'm like, 'I don't have time for this shit! I need to be preparing for my presentation. Not getting these damn oranges!' "
I'm slapping the back of my hand into my other palm. Maybe I am angry. Is this what I've been missing? Someone just to talk to. I'm exhausted.
"Oh, and what's worse? I have to pay with my own money. Not cash. Not debt. But, with my own fucking credit card."
I lay back down on the couch.
"And, I won't get reimbursed, either. And, all I'm thinking is, 'I really need this fucking promotion. Like, now!' "
"Then what happened?" The woman asked.
"So, then my phone vibrates. It's like, 2:55, and I'm like, 'Shit! Now I'm gonna be late.' And, the elevator makes like, half a dozen stops on my way back up, and I realize, 'That bitch set me up.' "
I punched the couch cushion and crossed my arms. I really needed this.
"And, now I know for sure, I'm not going anywhere. Fuck, Margaret. Fuck the promotion. Fuck me! I'm just so sick and tired of it all."
"So, I go down the elevator. Twelve floors. Across the street. In the rain. And, I grab a bag of those um, little oranges? Tangerines. And, of course, they're in a bin at the back of the store."
I sit up again, twisting around to talk over my shoulder.
"And, it's not like there's any other choice, right? There's only one kind of little oranges back there. And, I'm like, 'I don't have time for this shit! I need to be preparing for my presentation. Not getting these damn oranges!' "
I'm slapping the back of my hand into my other palm. Maybe I am angry. Is this what I've been missing? Someone just to talk to. I'm exhausted.
"Oh, and what's worse? I have to pay with my own money. Not cash. Not debt. But, with my own fucking credit card."
I lay back down on the couch.
"And, I won't get reimbursed, either. And, all I'm thinking is, 'I really need this fucking promotion. Like, now!' "
"Then what happened?" The woman asked.
"So, then my phone vibrates. It's like, 2:55, and I'm like, 'Shit! Now I'm gonna be late.' And, the elevator makes like, half a dozen stops on my way back up, and I realize, 'That bitch set me up.' "
I punched the couch cushion and crossed my arms. I really needed this.
"And, now I know for sure, I'm not going anywhere. Fuck, Margaret. Fuck the promotion. Fuck me! I'm just so sick and tired of it all."
Non Sequitur Stick:
"We were drinking champagne and losing our shirts."
"Okay. Let's slow down. Tell me what happened when you got to the meeting?"
I took a deep breath.
"I had to deliver the charts from Accounting. I came into the conference room and Margaret gave me that stupid fuck you grin of hers, and she says,"
"It's nice of you to join us." Margaret crossed her arms.
I took a deep breath.
"I had to deliver the charts from Accounting. I came into the conference room and Margaret gave me that stupid fuck you grin of hers, and she says,"
"It's nice of you to join us." Margaret crossed her arms.
"I come bearing gifts." I deflected.
Margaret glanced at the label.
Margaret glanced at the label.
"Oh. I only eat the one's with the little seeds."
"Fucking, bitch!"
I balled my fists on the couch.
Yeah, that one set me off. I should have know it was a trap. That's what happens when you don't question why you're doing something.
I balled my fists on the couch.
Yeah, that one set me off. I should have know it was a trap. That's what happens when you don't question why you're doing something.
My counselor flipped her hair.
"Now, lets move past that. What happened during your presentation?"
She actually sounded genuinely concerned. Did she really care about me? Probably just her training. Anyway, I'm here. Who gives a shit?
"Now, lets move past that. What happened during your presentation?"
She actually sounded genuinely concerned. Did she really care about me? Probably just her training. Anyway, I'm here. Who gives a shit?
"Well,"
I started to relax again.
"That was the best part."
I started to relax again.
"That was the best part."
"I hope you're ready to present." Margaret jabbed. "You've already cost us ten minutes."
Now I'm flinging my arms out in front of me. I'm in trouble.
"And, I was like, 'Fuck you!' I mean. I didn't say it, but, I was really going to enjoy this."
I adjusted myself to get more comfortable. My heart pounded as I relived the moment.
"I plugged my laptop into the podium and fired up my slide show. I won't bore you with the details, but basically, I told those stiff collared assholes that we where drinking champagne and losing our shirts."
"And, did you call them, Assholes?"
The woman shifted in her seat.
"In no uncertain terms." I said. "But, I think I got my point across. And, the look on Margaret's face. That made it so worth it."
I glanced over my shoulder at the woman behind me.
"And, that bitch didn't know what hit her."
Margaret contained her rage behind a toothy smile. "Thank you, Bill, for that pointed presentation." She walked around the table to meet me at the podium. With her hand on my shoulder, she ushered me towards the door. "I'll need to discuss the details of your presentation with you, after the meeting. If you would wait for me in my office, please."
"Sure thing, Boss." I said "Enjoy those oranges. Only six ninety nine a bag, across the street."
Margaret closed the door behind me.
I'll primarily be using The Writer's Toolbox by Jamie Cat Callan to prompt my 7 day writing challenge but feel free to do yours however you'd like.
Writing everyday is a great step towards becoming a Master Storyteller.
Do you want to share your own writing during this 7 day writing challenge?
ADD YOUR BLOG ADDRESS IN THE COMMENTS BELOW
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