Don’t you ever NOT feel like writing? my friend had asked on the phone the other day. I thought about that one. Not write? That’s a bit like not breathe, not eat, not love sexy shoes. When pigs fly, I thought, smiling at the images that popped into my mind.
I always feel like writing, I answered. Even if I’m not on a keyboard, or scribbling on paper with a pen, I’m writing in my head. That’s where the glazed expression comes from. (My sons, in particular, know that expression.)
Saturday morning, the impossible
You never know what may happen on a dark and mysterious night.
Ten hours of sleep? Moi? Ridiculous. I’m a challenged sleeper. OK. No euphemisms. I’m a terrible sleeper. And the dog always wakes me up even if I do have the occasional morning when I can sleep until 8.
If I get seven hours of sleep I’m loopy from the excess energy, the crisp clarity of my own thoughts, the snap-to-it organizational skills that jump to attention and set me to tedious tasks with fiery determination! Things get done, words pour out, I walk miles up and down my neighborhood hills with saucy spring in my step, and I bake!
The power of sleep
I confess I went to bed early, exhausted, after a long walk and a hard week. And for some unknown reason, the dog did not wake me until 9 a.m. I feel so rested that I could fly!
And guess what? I’m not in the mood to write!
So tell me…
Tell me, oh weary workers, oh overloaded overachievers, oh piqued and pooped parents – what happens to you when you get a real night’s sleep and a few hours to yourself?
I’m heady with the possibilities! But for now, I’m going to bask in this glorious sensation of calm, find a classic film on TCM, then watch US Open Tennis (hopefully no longer rained out). Later, I suspect I’ll enjoy a wonderful walk, in my favorite implausible tennis shoes – of course.