I did hardly any constructive work today, a fact which weighs on my incurably puritanical conscience. Yes, I had things to do. Even woke up with a scene in my mind and wanted to write it immediately. But life gets in the way. I always start the morning with email and Facebook. This morning by the time I did that, got myself ready for the day—hair washed, teeth brushed, dressed, etc.—it was time for the physical therapist to come. By the time she left, it was almost time for an early lunch date.
Betty and I didn’t get our usual dinner out this week so we compromised on lunch today. We both love the Swiss Pastry Shop, so off we went. A triumph for me—I went on the walker, not in the wheelchair, and felt fine about it, a little more secure than the chair. I had been longing for a certain meal all week--bratwurst, kraut and potato salad. Betty had a Reuben, and we were both most happy with our meals.
Came home ready to write that scene but a strange malady overcame me, as it has almost every day for months. I get so sleepy I doze off at my computer. Usually I can work until 2:00 but today at 1:00 I was falling asleep and realized I was nearly falling out of my chair. Struck me as dangerous, so I crawled into bed and stayed there until almost three when the bathroom called. Checked email and was still so sleepy I went back to bed. Only got up because a neighbor came to call at 4:00.. And tonight? Yep, I’m yawning but not quite falling asleep.
The scene I was going to write? I sort of wrote it but only got 700 words instead of the 1,000 that is my daily goal. Gave up and turned to reading, but I find when I read fiction new ideas for my own work pop into my mind. Friend and well-known author Susan Wittig Albert keeps telling me reading is work for authors, and I’m beginning to believe her. And she passed on a quote from Stephen King to the effect that if you don’t have time to read, you don’t have time to write.
‘Night. I’m going back to my book.