Whenever I suspend belief, that’s when things happen. Perhaps this sounds New Agey, or too Bay Area-ish, but, in my experience, I have found this to be true. Especially in April.
Seven years ago, I was looking at my tax returns. I had filed Schedule C and noticed that the amount I spent for my writing expenses exceeded the amount I brought in. I have to send out more writing, I thought. I have got to start making money from this. A second later, the phone rang. The woman on the other end identified herself as the Editor of Literal Latte; she told me that I was the Food Verse Winner and had won $500.
More recently, I got a rejection letter in the mail. Sunday night, I sat on my bed, thinking about my rather large collection of such letters. I could list my rejections, I mused, rather than my acceptances, in my next Bio. It could say, “My uncredits include the following publications....” Monday morning I found out my podcast had been chosen as part of “Best of Red Room.” I think I'll have to postpone that new Bio.
The other day, while craving good bread from a bakery, delicious cheese, and sweet butter, I sat on my bed, trying to decide whether to go shopping. Part of me thought I should save money and stay home with my French lentils. We could have a nice dinner conversing. “Bonjour,” we would say. “Comment allez-vous?” Though they are kind and forgiving of my broken French, I desired a change in menu. I wanted tasty food that wouldn’t talk back. After all, I cannot live on rice and lentils alone.
I picked up a hand basket, roaming around my neighborhood grocery store, and choosing rosemary herb bread, Irish cheddar, sweet butter, turkey breast, and lettuce. When I ran into a friend, I chatted with her awhile. Then it was time to stand in line. I emptied my items onto the black conveyor belt. At the bottom of my basket was a small, colorful gift card from Trader Joe’s.
“I found someone’s gift card,” I said, handing the card to the cashier. He handed it back, and said, “You should keep this.” I tried giving it to another head clerk, who told me the same thing. When I got home, I checked the balance on the card: $100.
Some say, “I went to hell in a hand basket.” After finding my gift card, I would have to disagree.
Causes Eva Schlesinger Supports
Center For Young Women's Development
Alameda County Library Foundation