Through The Wringer

Barbara: Have you ever been put through the wringer … and loved it?

Here I sit, weakly punching the keys on my keyboard to write this, a shell of my usual self. I am spent, exhausted, and done. Why, you might ask. Well, I’ve spent the day taking apart a story that is near and dear to my heart and then reconstructing it. But verbally, first with one, then with two other friendly co-conspirators. We are working together to get a script to the next level (meaning ready to film). But each of us has a slightly different idea of what the best route to that level should be.

Now that said, there have been many times when I’ve been in this situation … and it’s been very frustrating. I’ve felt undermined, disrespected, and/or invisible. After those kinds of sessions, I feel done, yes, but also depleted. Angry. Sad. Beaten.

But sometimes a wringer situation can be exciting and stimulating and invigorating. It forces you to clear out the cobwebs. In a good wringer situation, you need to listen well, but also think quickly. You need to access everything from the mental filing cabinet that might be necessary to solve a problem (or even to see a potential problem). So you need to get rid of anything extraneous that might clutter your brainwaves. It’s like mental spring-cleaning. But done in one fell swoop, like a sweep of hands across a desk (without the flurry of papers and pencils and office detritus littering the floor).

Today was such a day. So while I might be a spent and exhausted shell, I am still brimming with motivation and confidence. And while I might not want to experience a wringer day every day, I do believe I am jiggy with it (wtf?! sorry about that).

Anyway…

Put me through the wringer and hang me out to dry. I am content to flap exhausted and spent in the calm breeze.


Deb: Barb, you sound so filled with the juice of creativity!  I love it. 


When I was a young girl, my Mom actually had a wringer washing machine and I would sit in the laundry room and watch her put the clothes literally through the wringer. I will never ever forget this. It fascinated me! Because I am the queen of giving souls and feelings to inanimate objects, I would picture them coming out of the wash, clean but downtrodden, still heavy with water and unable to rid themselves of the extra baggage. But oh, when my Mom put them through the wringer and I watched that water get pulled and pushed out of them, I just knew how they felt. They came out the other side of the wringer saying, "ahhhhh". As did you, Barb. And my Mom had nothing to do with it.