I searched for an angry bear photo and, not surprisingly, there are none. I’m guessing that’s because an angry bear photo would probably be the last photo you ever took – and that would leave you no time to upload it to Flickr. Much thanks to “goingslo” for posting this happy-go-lucky bear who, presumably, did not eat her since she uploaded the photo.

When the title has the word “puhlease” in it, you know you’re in for a treat.  You can’t help but read it with an exaggerated Valley Girl-esque lilt and an eye roll.  It’s impossible.

So today, after not getting much sleep again last night and inwardly grouching about my knee and dealing with an upset stomach (thank you very much Papa John’s pizza which I have not had in decades and now I know why), I was pretty much a bear.  Not the protective mama bear type, but more the “don’t get in my way or talk to me or look at me or breathe the wrong way” type.  Wish you’d been here don’t you?

I started off fighting it when I got up, because I am searching for inner happiness, dammit, and being a raging bear does not inner happiness make.  By 10:30, the fight was gone.  I’d already been battling with Ultra G over doing his summer reading assignment and had uttered the phrase, “Would you puhlease just do it already?!?!” about a million dozen times.

He was making every excuse in the world.  And being just as mean and grumpy charming about the whole process as I was.  We are too much alike.  But here’s the thing that got me thinking and, well, quite honestly struck a nerve that ticked me off even more.  He was almost done.  He had all of the answers there.  The rough draft was written.  He just had to write the final copy.  And he was moaning and whining and procrastinating and arguing and being so obstinate about it that he was just waiting for me to tell him to do it tomorrow.  UGH!

Hmm.

How often do I do that, I wonder?  How often do I fuss and whine and complain and procrastinate even when all of the answers are right there and then refuse to budge to get it done?  Inner happiness is not made of procrastination, I think.  I think it has got to be the forging ahead even if you’re not sure you know how to spell all the words or you’re worried you’ll make some mistakes and have to erase along the way.  I’m pretty sure that if I don’t even start writing the rough draft, I’ll never get to the final one.

Maybe I need to grab myself by the shoulders and give myself an exasperated, “Would you puhlease just do it already!” a little bit more often.

Or maybe I just need to get more sleep.