It’s Monday at 2:14 pm EST and I have been sitting entranced in front of my MacBook, replacing, rewriting, and generally scooting around the same 60 (and sometimes 59) characters since the 8:37 this morning.
As you all are now undoubtedly aware, words are a slippery slope for me. I start typing and it’s just like someone punched a hole in the can and pretty soon I’m watching my edit screen almost visibly sagging under the weight of all of this carefully arranged alphabet soup.
But this soup is different, my friends. Why, you ask? Well. Because this little spoonful of soup is beet-based, and it will forever stain my husband’s wedding band.
That’s right. Engraving. Mr. PB had the endearing idea that we should surprise one another on our wedding day with inscriptions inside of our wedding bands. We are both writers (he writes fiction AND non-fiction – always gotta show a girl up – and has a few books near completion) so this seemed perfectly fitting.
I am ordering his wedding band today (well, technically I am returning his wedding band for engraving now that we know it fits and he likes the way it looks on his hand), and although I wrote the ring inscription and my vows months ago with nary a shimmer of a doubt’s third cousin twice removed, now that it’s time to actually commit those 60 (and sometimes 59) characters to precious metal, I’m all afluster (not a word but you do know by now that I enjoy making those up) with the compulsion to second and third guess myself.
This is one of the two most important things I’ve ever written (the other being my vows) and I’ve only got 60 characters with which to do it?
This is why Twitter gives me tachycardia. Just sayin’.
I cannot hang.