Set to write

on

The conditions are all here. I am alone in a dimly lit room, wearing sweatpants with my feet under cover. Not entirely alone, I guess, as one pup sleeps just past my feet and the other saunters to the porch to see if there is anything worth barking at. Not a thing to bark at.

See, the conditions are right. I’ve read a few blogs to find some inspiration, scrolled through my feeds to see what sparks might light. The furnace hums and the dryer whines. I am amidst everything I need to put words to this page.

Except that for the past 36 hours, I’ve barely gotten out of bed. Slept and sweated these germs away. I can feel the next fever hanging on the fringes of the fingers flying over these keys. And with that simple fact, the conditions of mind and body are caught in a cluttered confusion.

I realize, then, that this is so hard because I haven’t been out in the world that sources my slices.

I haven’t had contact with the outside, not even taking my daughter to school so as to write about the hell that is the parking lot log jam.

I haven’t gone to work, where I would have spent my morning in K-1 classes, learning more about Skills instruction and bringing home anecdotes about how I can be good and also the worst all at the same time.

Haven’t driven to Costco so that I could write about the people who cut us off to get to the free samples. I don’t even know if they are giving away samples in light of the recent pandemic.

I haven’t started a car, sat in traffic, had a drive-home conversation with my girl. I haven’t even hardly eaten. So what is there to write about? What about this day would put me to right? To write?

The dogs just came in from the porch, about to engage in a late afternoon tussle in the living room. The quiet that was is kept away on the arc of their tails, the set of their ears, the prance of their paws. Back out on the porch, and the quiet returns.

I guess this is it: this corner of my world, the view from my bed, the sounds that are missing, the quiet that sits in contrast to the noise that usually follows me home.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. khays41 says:

    Rest and be well.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. rdicarne says:

    You got me thinking about what fuels my writing; it is the daily encounters that we as writers notice in more detail than some others. I hope my school doesn’t close due to coronavirus. What will I write about being stuck in the house for an extended period of time?

    Liked by 1 person

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