When my friend and I decided to do Book Bingo earlier this year, I was all happy and excited and confident. When July rolled around, I had all but about 4 squares done and thought, “I could wipe this thing out by September!”
That was before I tacked The Problem Areas.
I’m talking about “A Forgotten Classic” and “A Book of Short Stories.” They may just do me in.
The moaning began back in August, when I realized my September finish was out of the question because of The Big Two. My friend helped me brainstorm, and I re-entered the fray all refreshed and ready to face my foes.
And then I faltered. The classics are an embarrassing stumbling block for me. I know they’re important, but I don’t crave them the way I think I should. And then to have to come up with a doggone forgotten one. For pete’s sake!
And short stories are not my thing. It’s really too bad. They always have the most enticing titles:
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven
See You in Paradise
What I Want to Tell Goes Like This
The Year of Perfect Happiness
So it’s like the final hours of the Read-a-Thon, when I’m tired and irritable and difficult to please. And then there’s assigned reading.
I will do it, though. I will complete this doggone bingo card.
And the triumph will be all the more glorious for the struggle.
This is what I tell myself.