Talking Hands?

 

My arms aren't long enough nor steady enough for selfies. Seriously. I had to use the desk to keep my arms still enough to take a picture. And it was an epic fail because, just a second after I took this, my chair rolled back and I thwacked my face on the desk.

This brings me to the purpose of uploading a picture: Twitter. That place where you bark into the void rather than becoming the change we want to see. What does hitting my face during a selfie have to do with Twitter? Nothing. But also Something.

One of my mutual followers sent a message with a request.

"You should make a YouTube channel that gives good feedback on our questions and predicaments." 

I already give solicited advice to young people, or I tell stories, or give support when they doubt themselves. They gave me nicknames like Gran, or Mama Gruff. Some call me Auntie Gruff.  I honestly think of Auntie Whispers when they use the latter. And, for whatever reason, they do, too.

I love this character, and not because Tim Curry knocks it out of the ballpark. The Cartoon Network series, "Over the Garden Wall", and this episode in particular, gives viewers a stern warning: things are not always what they seem.

I also think Auntie Whispers looks better than me. Yep. Low self esteem here. There was a time in my life when I looked good. I wasn't never a thin, squeaky thing. I was stocky, like my dad. I lifted weights. Competitively. And won.

Looking that way takes time and money. I didn't have that once I began to work. I worked so I could survive. 

I did a stint as a receptionist at a church, insurance office, and print shop. I became a vet tech and then traded my waggy patients for human ones. I also laid asphalt and joined a crew for resets in Home Depot stores in CO and WY. It wasn't that I couldn't settle on a career - I loved medicine. It was that I worked whatever job was necessary to keep us afloat once Jeff's health began to fail.

It took a toll on my body. It rendered me unable to work now. And I look in the mirror and see all the pounds I gained, and nod at the fact that Auntie Whispers and I have the same build.

That's why I don't want to put myself out there on YouTube.

And then it hit me! I was looking at my hands and realized that I didn't have a problem with their appearance. Except for the bitten nails. That looks dreadful. But what if I shot videos that focused on those hands, perhaps cradling a steaming cup of coffee while I spoke? I haven't seen that on YouTube before. Hell, include the mic in the shot.

 

I don't have a mic. I guess I would need to buy one.

The point is that I could express myself without dicking around with self esteem.

I don't have any issues with my voice, either. As with my cousin and my mother, my voice has that whisky tinge to it.

I'll put the whole mess on the back burner until we know if we have the house or not. Let it quietly simmer for a while.