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I know, I know, 'To Write Too Much', the very phrase strikes horror into those that are forced to juggle their time. Those that snatch at moments, grateful just to write for five minutes, and dream of a time when they are able to scribble endlessly. There are numerous articles of not having the time to write (and indeed I've written many of them) but rarely do you hear of the other way around.
Yes, I'm probably being terribly selfish. But you see I am a writing addict. I scribble mercilessly for a week, until the muse runs dry, and then dwell in rehab for a month or two, until the urge wells up once again.
But to write TOO much? What if the words won't stop? Is there such a thing? I think it's debatable, and here's why:
I've been sitting at my computer for, I guess around three days now. At times things have been slow, but for the most part, extremely productive. I am feeling proud of myself.
Gradually, I notice a sound. Actually it's quite an insistent sound, which has been going on for quite a while. Amazing how adept you can become about blocking these things out. This time it's the baby, and she is not happy. Voicing loudly the fact that she has just been plonked into her play-pen, for yet another day, with nothing to do but throw her toys out, and bite mummy's finger (mum rarely notices anyway).
A twinge of guilt. So I move her. Placing her in her crib, another 'baby prison', but this seems to quieten her. I sit down beneath it, muttering words randomly- an attempt at paying her attention. Actually, the first 'conversation' that I've had in days. Oh well.
A while later, I notice that there is cramp in my foot. Stretching it, I realize that I am unable to because the dog has been lying across it, for some time now. She too, is staring up at me with pleading eyes, reminding me that it is an absolutely gorgeous day outside. Perfect for hiking in the mountains, perhaps a picnic lunch in the snow.
O.k, maybe later. I'll just finish this chapter. And perhaps another one after that...or two, or three...
Ouch! What on earth was that?! A bottle, wielded from the hands of the baby, who is standing above me in baby prison, has just hit me firmly on the top of the head. It is empty, she having finished the formula. (JUST finished the formula, I am hoping).
I drag myself reluctantly into the kitchen to refill it. Ignoring the mountain of dirty dishes, erupting from the now foul-smelling sink. Plundering around for the tin of formula, I notice that it has fallen down by the three trash bags. They are full. The formula tin is empty. Oh crap. I was supposed to buy some more yesterday. Forgot.
Darn it. I curse irritably. I am outdoor person, staying inside for two days makes me irritable. Today I am downright cranky. And my teeth hurt....hmmm....probably my body could do with a better diet than just chocolate and cookies. But I simply MUST write. Maybe I'll make a proper meal for my husband and I, later. Wow, when was the last time I made a proper meal? In fact when was the last time I saw my husband? Hey, I could write an article about that........."GET OFF ME DOG!!!!!".....
Finally, hours later, after God has given me a swift 'guilt kick' in the behind, I find myself driving through the mountains. The baby is happily drinking milk (having just bought it from the store), and munching on animal crackers. Amazing how she never gets sick of these. Actually, she probably could do with a better diet too.
It really IS a gorgeous day. I breath in the fresh air, drawing it deep into my lungs, exhaling, cleaning out all those cobwebs. My eyes adjust to the brilliant light, as the sun reflects joyfully off the dazzling snow. Taking in the vastness, the magnificent majestic beauty of it all, I am filled with warmth, peace, and thankfulness. How lucky I am. How wonderful that I finally ventured out. What great poetry this would make.....oh, and here's my notebook.
Now, two hours later, the sun has set. Drawing heavy curtains over this incredible world before me. I am word-weary, and it's time to go home. My husband will be home from work. I probably should have cleaned house a bit, and there go my plans for making dinner. Oh well. At least the baby has fallen asleep peacefully beside me, and.....what's that scratching in the back of my car?
Did I forget to let the dog out?.....
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