My mom visited this week. Lots of emotions. Not necessarily good ones. Frustration, annoyance, even anger at some points. Mostly embarrassment between the clashing of two worlds—my mother’s Caribbean culture and that of my husband’s American ones. The lettuce tea. The undershirt around the throat to help prevent coughing. The cleaning of my and my husband’s bedroom without asking first. I guess if it were just me I wouldn’t have cared but my husband wasn’t a fan of it and I was embarrassed that he was annoyed so…

Mom is nit picky AF. (Will AF still be an understood thing 10 years from now?) She asked me yesterday if I was going to work because I didn’t look like it and that I hadn’t fixed my hair when it was actually looking great for the humidity. Sometimes, I cannot (deal with her). (Again, will “I cannot” and “I can’t” be a thing [acceptable slang] in 10 years?)

She’s also pretty passive-aggressive. I asked her not to clean our bedroom and she got particularly huffy and said she wasn’t going to clean anything anymore and she wouldn’t come and visit again. I told her she could clean everything but the bedroom was off-limits. Sometimes I can’t handle the martyr complex. The worst part is, I see it in myself and I’ve done it too.

At work, I have to confront an fellow editor over some copy editing issues. I reviewed mock-ups of a website and found egregious errors and typos. (Not that I won’t have any of this on this site.) But there wasn’t just one—there were a multitude. And it was ridiculous. What the heck was he doing? Why did he miss so many mistakes? I get that he was working hard but why wasn’t the mock-up cleaner to show for it? As I sit here and write this, I find myself absolutely baffled.

My son’s behavior has been troublesome as of late. He’s throwing tantrums at school and disrupting class, especially naptime, when he feels like it. My husband and I have tried talking to him and working with him and he seems intent on getting attention any way he can, even if it means getting negative attention. It’s very frustrating, disappointing, and disheartening. We plan on getting him evaluated by the county to assist with any special needs he might have. He’s a happy kid, but sometimes TOO happy. He rarely takes anything seriously, which I KNOW is going to bite him in the butt eventually. I can’t change his personality. I can only hope and pray that he begins to see the gravity of some things and wises up.


one of my favorite songs at the end of a long workday is norah jones’ “the long day is over.” it’s a beautiful song that really soothes me and allows me to just stretch out and relax. my tense shoulders soften and a lot of the stress that has built up melts away. i should make it a regular habit to listen to the song at the end of EVERY workday but it’s not always feasible. but it’s worth sharing and listening to.

word wednesday

This week’s word is erratic. Merriam-Webster (MW) defines it as:

1 : having no fixed course
2 a : characterized by lack of consistency, regularity, or uniformity
2 b : deviating from what is ordinary or standard

Yup. That’s what this blog is. No fixed course. I have my regular postings on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, but Sunday, Monday, Friday, and Saturday could be about ANYTHING. Enjoy the erratic content.

I initially wanted to call this blog the erratic editor but for some reason, eccentric stuck in my head and that became the name of this blog. Ah, whatever. Maybe I’ll rename it. Maybe I won’t. I’m not sure. I”m not married to my domain name.

The last few days have been a bear. I had a migraine for 3 consecutive days with nausea on and off. Ginger ale has been my BFF. I’ve purposely eaten terribly so i could throw up but that hasn’t happened yet. The nausea is still pretty bad tho.

Speaking of BFFs, I was supposed to meet with a friend on Friday and enjoy a day of pub hopping in Philly. I had this planned for MONTHS. Now I’m stuck in bed writing a blog post, dealing with a migraine, and fighting off nausea. Luckily i have my bucket nearby. All is well to catch any upchuck.

my mom will be visiting for the next week. If I survive, I will tell you all about my harrowing experience.