Saturday, May 21, 2016

Writers Meh

           I sat on the edge of my bed with my notebook on my lap. The news was on in the background as the babies are fighting in the living room. The sounds and screams of alleged infanticide echoed down the hall, killing all my drive to write. My preteen son was also screaming as he tried manage the situation the best he knew how, and from the torrential response I could tell his approach was the wrong one.

           I just wanted to write... but for some reason I drew a blank. My son yelled again, and ironically, the news being played was about a murder of a teenage girl; I thought for a second that I should intervene with my children, but I knew they would resolve it themselves, as they had before. I sighed as I searched each of my open projects and knew I had material for each of them but a weariness washed over me as another wail blasted from the other room. I sadly knew I would get nothing done again.



"All I have to do was lay down and cover up" I thought as The screaming intensified. The call of the pillow intensified. Soon the screaming turned into laughing as my son either hurt himself or pretended to, and the baby's peeled in laughter. They switched to  playing as historically and enthusiastically as they were fighting. I knew from experience that soon someone would get hurt, even if just pride, and it would be time for the baby's nap. If I waited ten minuets I could just lay down with them.

The pages, and words half written on my screen, mocked me. I knew I wasn't suffering writers block, but something like Writers Meh. The last few days contributed to my Writers Meh, I was in training at work, my laptop stopped charging and I needed to take it apart to fix it. Now it was the baby's bouncing in a bipolar baby "Crash mode" funk. I saved the documents even though I didn't change anything, and closed my laptop.

My youngest toddled into the room, crying from my son playing to rough, my next oldest melted down and my son was done with it all. I called the babies to me, and laid down with them.

"Better luck next time" I said to my writer self as I drifted off, the nap was what I really wanted anyways.



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