The Preamble...

WE HAVE ALL BEEN THERE.

Faced with those times in your life when you sink in your seat, breathe deeply, and wonder what the hell has just happened. 

Why you? Why now? What the hell? What, there is more?

Exasperated. Exhausted. Probably.

And when the tears that have been spent turn into snot worthy snorts and long overdue laughter, you know that your "SERIOUSLY?"moments will be shared amongst good friends. Well at least you hope they're good because you need that support, right? If not, you should be ditching them for a better crew. 

Let's be honest here. 

There is something rather cathartic about airing and sharing your inner inadequacies, vague vulnerabilities, pervasive poignancies and train-wreck traumas. So sit back, pour yourself a little something and come have a laugh. With me or at me, I'm not going to know. 

Oh yeah, we all know that these personal tales will somehow become embellished...especially with an audience. So, welcome to CHARLOTTE SOMETIMES. 

I hope that some of what you find here will resonate with you or at least make you smile. If not, oh well it's doing something for me...I'm not quite sure what but I am willing to find out.


C.W.

Just Charlotte Sometimes...

She's the type of girl 

Whose hair will freely curl 

Spark of light in her eyes 

Love of life can't disguise 

Just by chance you may meet

Simply strolling down the street

That hop-skip in her talk 

Like the way her hips walk 

Wind blows, wild and free

She will dance, just wait and see

Stops to touch almost everything

To your world a joy she'll bring

Watch her gaze, feel her feel

See her breathe all that's real

Love her laugh, childish squeak 

Stuff and things she will seek

See her wonder, feel her awe

May just leave you wanting more

She's likes to give, loves to care

Just stop still and breathe her air

Take her by her open hand

See her world; understand

Save Your Kisses...

No, I really mean it. I really really do. 

Act One, Scene One. 

The Time When Your Child Becomes Your Parent

The Empty Nest Syndrome. 

Yes, yes. Many of us may eventually experience this but I somehow had managed to get rid of the husband, several hundred thousand dollars, the child and then the puppy. And did I fail to mention a good chunk of additional cash on a new outside sewerage system all within about 10 months? Yes. My life really had turned to crap. But hey, it was what I wanted, right?

But I was not too down. After all, I was still functioning. Getting up in the morning, washing, dressing, occasionally eating some limp salad thing and going to work. Me, not coping? Srsly. What people didn't see was the inner turmoil that was quickly becoming more outer as time passed. I was rapidly cloning Shirley Valentine but in a higher, more ridiculously twangy accent and not just talking to the Wall. I was basically chatting to anything inanimate that popped up around me. There was the 'fridge with its late night grunts and groans that resembled the older-more-than-middle-aged-co-exister aka the former husband, the  But perhaps the most freakishly scary moment was when the microwave started to answer me back.