Monday, May 10, 2010
Early Monday morning thoughts
It's very quiet. I can hear the clock ticking and my computer making it's sounds. A cat is snoring somewhere. The sun is up, but the other people in the house are not. I'm drinking tea. It's cold, having gotten down to freezing overnight. It's May. Those two sentences shouldn't go together. Right now I'm glad I haven't been into gardening this year, or I'd be worrying about my little plants if I'd gotten to them earlier. Most years I wait till about now to do garden stuff anyway. This year I'm not sure how much I'll do. I'm more interested in getting my writing cabin built. Ever since April ended, with it's poem-a-day, I've not done much writing. Maybe I needed a week off. But now we're already ten days into May and I know I need to force myself into some routine, or before I know it, it'll be September. Yeah, I'm not breaking this up which makes it hard to read. It's early and I'm just writing to write. I'm feeling old this morning. Introspective. I want to crawl back into bed and sleep more. It was late (or early depending on perspective) when I got to sleep, probably well after 1 AM. I'm not used to that. But there's lots I need to get done today. But to sleep again, that would be nice. I'm not a very driven individual. I slack off real well. Sometimes I wish I was. Other times I'm glad I'm not. I have a friend who is driven, you'd might even say obsessed. With dance, to the exclusion of just about everything else. On the one hand, I admire that. On the other, it makes me want to shout "Look at all else you're missing!" I wish I was as driven about my writing. I haven't worked on my novel for several months. Not sure why. Well, I can make all sorts of excuses, but that's all they'd be. Am I afraid of it? Or is it that I just can't seem to focus on any one activity for too long? All I know is time is moving much faster these days. It was just the new year, and winter, and there was all the time in the world. Or it seemed that way. But the months and weeks and days and hours and minutes and seconds go by and are gone. I don't know where I'm going. I just get up each day and do stuff. I definitely feel like I'm transitioning between eras of my life. I've embraced the erotic side of my being, and that feels great, but sometimes, like right now, I wish I hadn't of waited so long. I don't want to end this on a downer note. So, I think I'll get back into bed for a few minutes. Start over.