When I Grow Up

         I've finally decided what I want to do when I grow up. The only thing I want to do is be a writer. Well, and be a ninja. Writer by day, ninja by night. It's true that I already write a lot. I think of this as the official notice.
         Why do I want to be a writer? Because I love to write! I write for my own sake. I write what I'd like to read. As an added bonus, I already fit the profile. Antisocial, solitary by nature, insane, procrastinatory (yes, I just made that up), and eccentric. Most of all, I enjoy fitting the profile. I love living like a writer.
         There is, of course, the problem of earning a living. I'm too moralistic to use my ninja skills to steal, so I have to make an honest living. Writing in itself is definitely not a guaranteed money-maker. To make money with my writing, it's likely I would have to deal with such demons as editors, publishers, and reviewers. I'd have to sell my soul to them; not my idea of fun. I've decided not to bother with them. Who needs money anyway? Food is the only real problem. When I run out of money, I'll let the electricity be the first thing to go. I love it when they cut off the power. It makes me feel like I'm in some kind of post-apocalyptic world where no one has electricity and we're all pillaging abandoned corner stores. And anyway, that's why laptops have batteries. Recharging? That's what the plugs at public libraries are for.
         Procrastination is my friend. I love putting things off until the last second, completing them in a rush of deadline-fueled energy. Procrastination for me is often brought on by subconsciously realizing I'm about to get writer's block. That's another friend of mine. It's so fun! I love staring at the blinking cursor, pulling my hair out trying to think of what to write next. Sometimes I use it as an excuse to get out of the house for a while and pretend I have a life. Or, it inspires me to start on something new, to invent another more interesting novel idea (one that is fun to start writing but that I will inevitably not finish). I love trying to freewrite as a weapon against writer's block. I get intriguing pieces of text such as "Mraaaaaaaaaagh asdfjk; e ljt talr ltjl" that make absolutely no sense. I know I'm supposed to write words, but I quickly tire of writing, "Can't think of what to write." Nonsense is so much more interesting than repetition!
         I love tricking myself into thinking I'm not procrastinating by reading about writing (I especially love essays. Peter Elbow is my future husband). Reading about writing is almost as interesting as actually writing, in part because it makes me believe I can do anything. Sometimes I get so deluded that I actually pull out the paper and pens and think, Man, this is going to be the best novel ever! before realizing that I have nothing I want to say about anything. Grr. Who needs themes anyway?
         But I love that moment when I realize I do have something to say about everything. The trick is to narrow down "everything" into a manageable category of things until it becomes a "something." I never start by thinking of anything: anythings are boring. So I find a something out of everything, decide I have a strong opinion on it, determine what that opinion is, and write about it. It's a very enjoyable process and sometimes narrowing down everything is so fun that it's all I do! After all, everything consists of a lot of things, and things are so interesting that it's all people write about! I dare you to find an author that didn't write about a thing.
         I write on computer or paper, depending on my mood or the type of thing I'm writing. Although I don't use them, yellow #2 pencils are among the most lovely of man's inventions. A freshly sharpened pencil on a blank piece of paper is so inspiring that sometimes just the sight of it is enough to get me writing. I use pens instead of pencils, not just because I don't have to sharpen them or click them but because of the way they glide across the page so smoothly and gracefully. Paper is marvelous and enchanting. One wonderful thing about paper is the mess it makes. I love disorderly stacks of paper. I love accidentally knocking them over and then thumbing through the pages and pages of things I've written, enjoying the look of my handwriting on line after line. Crumpled up balls of paper by a trashcan is the most beautiful sight in the world. It holds more emotion, more artistry and meaning, than the best painting, book, song, or sculpture ever produced.
         I love spiral-bound notebooks: they're my favorite species of house pet. A brief glance around my room makes that fact amazingly obvious. They're everywhere, and they shed fur all over my carpet (you know, the bits of paper from when you tear out a page). Aside from the usefulness of my pets, I love how many different breeds there are. Some have thin spaces between their stripes, others have large spaces. Some are short-haired notebooks so they don't shed all over the floor (their label calls it "perforated." What does that mean?). Some don't have claws: their sharp corners are rounded. And of course, they come in all different colors: black, white, gray, brown, colors of the rainbow and colors not found in nature, take your pick. Purple is my favorite.
         Some pieces of writing are more conducive to being typed. I love my laptop: her name is "Kisa" (kitten), which inspired the name of my thumb drive, "Catnip." My laptop reciprocates my love: she always cooperates and tries not to give me the blue screen of death. If I've kept her awake too long and she crashes, she always apologizes and gets her minions to recover my work (her slaves, OpenOffice and Firefox, are very good at this). She makes cute noises, too. My favorite is the ding-dong noise she makes when I let her sniff Catnip. I also love the song she sings when she goes to sleep. It's beautiful.
         I love stiff necks and blurry eyes from staring at the screen too long. I love how my elbows get tired of supporting the weight of my bent arms for too long. I call them "elbow-timers" because they are like alarms to remind me to get up and do something so I don't enter a vegetative state. My body also has other convenient break-reminders. My stomach is very vocal in reminding me to eat. My bladder nudges me until I finally get up and go to the bathroom. When I've been sitting too long, my rear end complains until I stand up and walk around.
         Ideally, I would have no social life. I would also have no need for such annoying things as food or bathroom breaks or showers. In fact, ideally I'd have no body at all. I'd be a whisper in the air, a thought in the wind, a spark in the circuitry. Alas, I am only human, at worst an ignorant fool and at best a brilliant ninja. Writing is a battle against my weaknesses as a human, but it is also a celebration of my strengths as a creative being. All I ever want to do is write, and maybe live, but only if I feel like it.