Edwina Allan Poe

I seem to be giving the term cranky all new meaning, blaming it on the weather, but it dawned on me, I’m kinda like this all year round.

All writers are moody, I’m told. I try finding comfort in this, although it’s usually followed by, and quite often drunk.

I stopped drinking a while ago. It wasn’t exactly improving things, and my bills were becoming legendary. I think Bank of America said my Visa and I were headed for a free washer and dryer at the rate we were going.

What’s ailing me? Mostly the behavior of others which is why I’m hermetically sealed in my apartment like a sullen shepherd. All I need is a flock of sheep to tend.

BAH…BAH humbug.

An ex of mine, a guy I was pretty nuts about, came sniffing back around. Seems he’s single now, or will be, and is looking for a handy replacement. No, I wasn’t thrilled by this. The translation at such a sudden reappearance is…to do laundry and pack his bags because he travels ten months out of the year. Gee, wonder why he’s getting a divorce.

He was stunned when I showed little interest, his ego the size of Jupiter.

“You never spoke to me again, remember?” I said, trying not to slap him.

“Yeah, but you know why sweetie, come on.”

“Actually I don’t, but guess what Tonto, I don’t care.” And Edwina turned on her high heel and loped off head held high.

I was mad, because not that long ago, I would have traded a kidney to hear those words, but alas, timing is everything. I did cry though thinking it was a helluva time to be on the wagon since brandy is such a good listener.

But then, wrapped in my down comforter, old cranky me thought, when all is said and done, whether you’re on the eternal rag or not, you’ve come a long way baby.

Yes indeed.   



About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in alcohol, animals, Gratitude, humanity, humor, Love, New York City, sexual relationships, Women and men, writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

32 Responses to Edwina Allan Poe

  1. ACountryBoy says:

    Love this, especially the title.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Men are dolts. Don’t know if that’s a word but it sounds good. Then again dickhead would do too.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. HA HA … I just had to look up – dolt. I like adding new words to my vocabulary. I’m sure I’ll use this one in the near future. There are so many dolts both male and female.
    BRAVO … for you on the sending-him-to-the-curve fractured. What does he think you’re a dry cleaning shop where he can pick up his stuff when he wants to or not? A good cry was a better med than brandy but a little scotch could work too.
    Huggies to your bravado …
    Isadora 😎

    Liked by 1 person

  4. You have an artistic temperament. Just makes you a better writer. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I don’t think I’ve ever met a person with that big an ego. I laughed aloud at your reply about dealing with those adolts. That’s a fantastic word!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, so glad you sent the bum packing. Before I met Pookie, I had an extreme infatuation break up with me by quoting a popular song at the time – “I need you, I want you, but there ain’t no way I’m ever going to love you. Two out of three ain’t bad.” Oh, and this was said while in bed after doing the dirty deed.
    He came sniffing back around for seconds too. Guess he needed and wanted me, ha ha. As much as part of me wanted him back, I resisted the temptation.
    So proud of you having the backbone and gumption to know where your weak spot is and to stand strong, without a hound dog hanging around.

    Liked by 1 person

    • We women, when we love, we love big. But, when we’ve had enough, that’s it. I think that’s the biggest tragedy for me. My affection that was so sincere and pure was ground down to a nub because he never felt that strongly for me. When they say, the truth shall set you free, but first it will kick your ass, they’re not just whistling Dixie. Painful to admit. Oh well…that’s life, as Frank would say.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Well, you know that, although far away, I think you are wonderful, even if cranky. I prefer the term “attitude pending”. I have dated (and married) different women and most were cranky, a lot of the time. Was it moi? Could have been, though not what I was told by others. I drank very little – none now. But, I will say that, since my surgery last week, I am very cranky, just not around other people. I know I will blow if I do and it won’t really be their fault.
    Think on circumstances, Susannah. I try to…it does help.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Susannah, I’m glad you didn’t play second fiddle for that dolt. You’re number one in our book! Also, I think you may be right, we writers can be a moody lot. That being said, if that’s the worst that can be said about us then that’s not so bad. ‘O)

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Big egos make me sick, and I know I’m on edge because reading this made my heart race, and I suddenly have the urge to drop about a thousand f-bombs in response, but I’ll control myself.


  10. LOL>..thanks for the laugh

    Liked by 1 person

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