"I met a flirt and a schizophrenic. It was great fun."
However...I am a person who likes to do things. I can only watch so many hours of TV before I start going crazy. On average, I bike about 5 miles a day and play basketball for a few hours. I like to move. So while resting is nice, I needed something to do this afternoon or I was going to go nuts.
Thus, I dusted off my 'the great ones and the general' file and reread that. And it's a very good thing that I'm not having stomach pain any more, because it involved a lot of laughter.
Now, 'the great ones and the general' is about a fairly serious subject. Depression, suicide, and trauma...there's not much there to laugh at. However, you must take this one particular fact about me into consideration....
I am a sarcastic person.
Correction: I am a very sarcastic person.
Luckily, I've been blessed with several friends who are just as sarcastic as I am (trust me, I have multiple text conversations with these people and 99.999% of what we text each other is laced with sarcasm.) Sometimes, however, my words get taken as rude/harsh, and the sarcasm goes undetected. That makes me sad, because there's not much better than being able to have a sarcastic duel with someone else. Maybe they should start sarcasm course or something. I know I would attend.
Aaaanyhoo, I reread what I've written in my oh-so-troublesome WIP (which is a rather pitiful amount, I am ashamed to say. Was supposed to finish it a few months ago...life got in the way). And there were multiple moments when I was either repeatedly facepalming my "brilliant" sarcasm skills or laughing so hard I nearly fell out of my chair. It's my general rule of thumb to not read what I've written until it's time to edit, but since I've been busy with other things, I needed a refresher course.
And boy, was it refreshing.
“It looks like something out of a Tim Burton flick,” Colt said, rubbing his neck. “Are you sure your mom’s friend isn’t an ax murderer or something?”
“Shut up.” I started down the path.
“You know, you keep saying that to me,” he hollered at my back. “I’m beginning to feel hurt.”
“I don’t know if you’re trying to be funny or if you’re fully intending to be stupid, but that’s how it’s coming across.” I inclined my head. “Out. I need sleep.”
I almost laughed. I could imagine telling Mom about this someday—hey, Mom, remember that one time I ran away from Aunt Jade’s place? Well, I met a flirt and a schizophrenic. It was great fun.
Colt laughed, and the truck swerved a little on the road. My knuckles whitened on the doorhandle. “Trust me,” he said, “he’s always a smart aleck.”
“This is pleasant all,” I gritted out, “but we’re entering the city, Colt. Stay focused.”
“I am focused, dude. My mind’s like a Internet browser—I have about 50 tabs open.” He winked at Sam. “Never let it be said that guys can’t multitask. I’ve mastered the art.”
“Just like you’ve mastered the art of shutting up when you’re supposed to.” I glowered at the map in my lap.
More often than not, my attempts fell short and ended up sounding cheesy, but there were a few instances that made me genuinely laugh. This whole situation amuses me, actually. 'the great ones and the general' actually sprouted from my experiences with depression and frustration with the world, and yet, I still managed to squeeze humor into my writing--albeit sarcastic humor, but it was humor.
Needless to say, my enthusiam in writing this novel has been sparked once more. I probably won't be able to write much in the next weeks (I have camp and graduation to worry about, AHHHHHHHH...), but my creative juices have been thawed. And my sarcasm skills are in action once more.