There are many pieces to the q-who puzzle, and not all of them fit in the same picture. To complicate matters more, the picture keeps changing. So here, I sort out the pieces. Sort of.
“Susie-Q,” I have heard the most by far, but my favorite was given to me by a rock star. He calls me, “Q-ster.” Other names, I have been called, too, the mentally lazy, they just call me, “Sue.” “No, it’s Susie,” I say, thinking this they knew, though it matters not, it’s just what they do. I wear several different hats, and sometimes my brain feels like a zoo, or a million-piece puzzle, with no picture to view. There is so much I want to do and while doing it all, I got confused. So here, I sort it all out with Q-Who.
“You can do anything you set your mind to,” my parents used to always say, and so I set my mind to do a million different things. My parents did much the same, and when they died, I found three million things I want to do. In addition, something happened to the puzzle pieces. They became attached in the wrong place.
Detaching the Pieces
Memories stained on stuff. Collectibles clutter careers.
Sentiments flying solo.