E is for Effort

(with apologies to those of you who got caught by my scheduling fubar of last night)

So, I thought I was going to manage it… I thought I had found a way to rise to the challenge of the “E” word that SP had sent me. It was a subject he knew would make me uncomfortable to deal with (like his “C” suggestion) but he wanted to see if I could pull up my socks and make the words flow anyhow.

And, you know, for a while there, I really thought I might pull it off.

I found an approach to the uncomfortable subject that I could handle,

I found the words to express my feelings.

I didn’t exactly write from the… body part that he feels houses my power… (“C”) but I didn’t retreat too far into the safety of academic distance, either.

I actually ended up with quite a bunch of very satisfactory little paragraphs, indeed.

Until I tried to sew them together into a cohesive essay…

      ….at which point, they imploded - each and every paragraph 

Just oozed all over each other until all points were completely obscured.

*sigh*

OK, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

So I went back to square one.

Again, the tone was good, the emotions were expressed, 

     and again, pages later, everything collapsed in on itself.

Again…

Again…

Eight.

Frickin’.

Times. 

Finally, I decided that God simply doesn’t want me thinking so much about erections just yet,

gave myself a pat on the back for the effort, and threw in the towel.

(my head hurts now…)