Plight of the proposal writer

I peddle the written word. Today my boss complimented me in this manner “You are a terrific writer when you start from scratch”. Meaning, there are times when all a grant proposal needs is some updating and tweaking of last year’s facts and figures. Maybe some dusting off of old lingo. Supplanting one funders name for another. Its easy. And apparently, not my best work.

Then there are those times when the guidelines for the funding opportunity are so precise, so particular, you cannot recycle your boilerplate. I must sit at my desk strategizing the approach and eventually peck away at it until something exists that didn’t before.

I guess this seems pretty obvious.

I’ve been complimented on the quality of my work before…and by and large, I am usually pleased and proud of what I’ve created out of my very own brain.

But I just wish it came a bit easier.  Today, for example, I spent eight hours of a work day blinking at the screen and coaxing out something persuasive. Not to mention the three days previous, where I couldn’t even bear to open the file because the task of mining my mind in that way was too too too daunting.

And then something moves. The blade of grass brushes the boulder at the top of the hill and down the mountain it goes. I am never more relieved and pleased than when it finally happens. It practically feels the project is already done.

The odds that this project will be funded are nearly nonexistent. The foundation is too discerning and the opportunity to widely publicized. Strangely, this doesn’t dampen the drive to write a really strong application. At least I have that working for me.

Sunday

Now the back of my knees are pink and I have a small ache behind my brow but earlier I spent happy hours in the gallant sunlight with the merriest of friends. Ate terrific sausages and drank cocktails made with egg whites. Sampled vodka in a hangar on an old naval base. Sat on a teal velveteen couch and preened for a camera. Lake lounged on a yellow blanket with cheese and unread books.

Driving over the San Mateo bridge in the dusk,  towards the plated neighborhood luminaries in the near distance and the saturated blue of the hills of the horizon, is like being ushered into the breast pocket of the bay area.

An asprin and aloe will tuck me in.

It is earth day and I promise to:

Take shorter showers. I need to by an egg timer so I can hear a ‘ding’ at two minutes.

Buy biodegrable garbage bags. I have plenty of re-usable grocery bags but what good is that when you need plastic bags for your kitchen garbage pail? Why should your househould garbage be held hostage for a thousand years in a non-biodegradable plastic bag? Must look into this.

I want to compost. But I don’t have a garden. I have a few plants but I don’t have a whole  backyard to nourshish. Is this viable for me? Worms? Etc? I promise to look into it some more.

Happy Earth Day!