"Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity." ~ Gilda Radner

Thursday, March 08, 2012


Sleep dep.  Johnny Depp.  A little dab'll do ya.


I'm frazzled. I cannot write another sentence. Not one that makes any sense, anyway.

Sixteen days of non-stop work/eat/work/write/nap/work/eat/work/write/nap has apparently taken its toll.

It is Day 16 of  the 40 Days of Writing challenge, right?


Whatever day it is, I am officially declaring myself an exhausted, blathering idiot, awhirl in the throes of acute memory malaise and polyorbitol puffiness (bags under the eyes). 

Other tell-tale signs that I have deprived myself of sufficient shut-eye in my quest to write every day for roughly six weeks straight?

Can't think. Can't type. A hair dizzy. A tish cranky. And I'm starting to see Care Bears.

Not to worry, though. 

I'm, good! I'm good!

However, if suddenly I begin belting out random show tunes, say, songs from The Sound of Music or The Music Man?  Call the damn doctor. Fast.  For that, my friends, is a bright, red flag signaling that, indeed, I have gone over the top. Or bottomed out. 

Bottom line?  

I need sleep.

But I need writing more.  It makes me happy.

Time and time again I have ignored my passion for the written word, neglected my muse in the name of earning a blessed buck or keeping a clean house (or watching NCIS marathons on the USA channel), and time and time again my soul has suffered.

When will I ever learn?  Writing is one of my life-long favorite things. And sure as shootin', the minute I start writing again, there is a noticeable new spring in my step and a gleam in my eye, and I see my entire life in a better, more positive light...

Ergo, when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my fa-vor-ite things, and then I don't feeeeeel so bad...


Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. Trouble.

Trouble with a capital "T" and that rhymes with "P" and that stands for pooped.


No comments: