My mind has been weaving yarns. But it’s not just my mind keeping me awake. My body twitches and itches. I’ve been up for over an hour tossing, turning, covering and uncovering. It was when I looked at the clock and I realized the last time I looked it read 4:55. Now it says 6:15 and I had to get up. I am a spider in the web until my eyes burn and I try to sleep again.
Tonight I’m up. Don’t know why. When I’m awake I start thinking. Or am I awake because I can’t stop thinking.
Was thinking about traveling. A few weeks ago a cousin was posting picture of their trip in Orlando and my mom and I talked of going. Should I plan a trip now? It would make me happy. Love getting away. Haven’t been to the parks in so long.
Other view is I don’t have a job. No income and no matter how much I look and apply nothing seems to be coming my way anytime soon. Another truth is what happens if I don’t want another Monday- Friday 9-5 job. Bland office with no natural light. Or a window with a view of another building. Or just a cube of tack board. Maybe switch my thinking to maybe working with fun, good people. Making money. Being challenged.
Do I really have a choice?
Need to find a story to write. I write little separate stories. Stories about crazy girls, adventurous animals, or everyday tasks but nothing turns into a novel. I do write better away. Every night I write about my day. Every day I write!
Thinking is my problem. All this thinking about everything and I get no where. Certainly not to sleep. Grrr.
Maybe focus on how I feel happier. Just remember how unhappy I was and how I finally found something inside me (courage, strength, false sense of hope) to be happy.
I’ll most likely delete this later… It’s what I do.
I think this place is stale with distractions. Internet, cable, and me. I think about places I could go and not plug into the world but just my head. But I wonder if place or distractions are the problem. The disappointment when I find out it isn’t any of that. It is me.
Is it time? I have no set schedule. I don’t write in the morning with sleep still in my eye. I don’t let my hands search my inner subconscious. I have been writing almost everyday but there is not set day. No set time. Most of the time it is just for work. Does that make me less of a writer?
I have no person to go to with my writing. Criticism is the hardest thing to take but the thing needed most. I don’t want a writing group I want a literary companion who will tell me my silly grammar mistakes aren’t stupid but easy to fix. Someone I can return the favor to with conversion. I can do that myself. I have fears. I don’t need to be told everyone has the same fears but do I need to hear it. Maybe I could read my stories out loud tripping and stumbling. Listening to someone read their stories worried I may miss something because it is not visual. I can read my stories to myself with the written word in front of me. Not be forced to read my work out loud to someone who will grin and nod but really daydream away. Worst believe someone believes in my writing but shows no interest in what I write.
It isn’t inspiration. Inspiration does visit me. Sometimes it is at the worst moment. Just as I’m laying down to sleep. Dark. The bed is finally warm where I can stretch out of the radiation of heat ball. Words and phrases and sentences start to talk in my head and there is always that moment I think, “I should write this down,” but I think about turning on the light and being closer to awake than asleep and I abandon inspiration. The worst is when the muse tricks me. She makes me believe what I am hearing from my head is genius then I write it all down in a clique mess of words.
I am missing something when I sit down to write. Me.
Maybe I only want this cup of coffee just to have an excuse to leave the house. I could just leave without an excuse, with no destination. No destination doesn’t appeal to me tonight. Even the person who runs away has an idea where their next step will be.
In the middle of autumn, the cold weather has set in. It makes it hard to leave the house. Comfortable bundled up snuggling with the covers. Don’t want the wind trying to find the bare spots I missed covering with clothing.
I could stay in and have relaxing de-caffeined tea. The coffee can have it’s turn grabbing me out of bed tomorrow fighting away the sleepy night dreams.
What do you do when you can’t sleep? I was thinking about driving to Boston for some early breakfast at the South Sea Diner. Maybe a stopover at Mohegan to win a few millions. Then I thought how much I wanted a Sweet Sue’s breakfast. Instead I would drive up to Phoenicia, NY. A quiet and smooth ride this time of night. Walking into Sue’s with the warm flour, sugar smell of cooking pancakes.
I realized while answering my own status feed that a spontaneous adventure would be perfect right now but I have no one to go with. Everyone is sleeping, partying, or doing something. Another good reason to caution when posting certain things on Facebook is the passenger. Never know who would answer back. I could go by myself but I feel half the adventure would be going with someone. Laughing, singing loud and off key to good music and getting to Sue’s to park outside talking, maybe even falling asleep, cramped in a car, warm. Wake up and order an amazing recipe mixed of fruit or nuts pancakes or omelets with pepper, onions and cheese. To drive home tired but coffee buzzed, full of sweet stuffed and content.