I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD SLAPS, SPEED BUMPS and LIGHTBULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.




Monday, January 6, 2014

Awake of the UnGodly



Up at 4 am for inventory, WTF, people actually are awake at this hour? Why? Jobs? Babies? Early flight? Colonoscopy prep? This is ungodly.

I know of writers who religiously get up around now just to get in a word count. I’m sorry but unless three cups of coffee the night before is keeping you from the splendor of the wild blue slumber, you’re insane. What in the world can you say better during the 60 minute slot of the 4am hour that you can’t say during Downton Abbey? Your prayers?

Although I will add that right about now my mind is skipping along pretty well. I mean it’s not tripping all over itself like it does after Sunday dinner on any other night.

It’s a little weird right now knowing that my husband and the dogs are asleep in the bedroom. Usually while I write the old-boy is dozing on the couch, the big dog is on the floor beside him and the little wiener dog, the lap whore, is keeping his feet warm.

One nice thing about going in so early is that I’m out early. That means I get to write this afternoon. The old-boy will still be at work and the big dog will be asleep on the floor next to my desk and the lap whore will be between me and my keyboard. Or, I’ll be napping on the couch with the big dog asleep on the floor and....well you know the rest.

Tomorrow it’s the same routine; I’m part of the inventory travel team. I drive and get travel pay. Thank God I only have to do this twice a year.

When was the last time you had to get up at 4am? 

If you do this every day, my condolences and I don't want to hear how inspiring early morning writing is because frankly, it sucks..

9 comments:

  1. Ah do I remember those days! Price check garden, price check country and on and on. I remember doing it late at night and not this early in the a.m. I call 4 a.m. not ungodly as much as screaming out, "It's dark-o-thirty!" WTF is right. We need to talk, soon.

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    1. New machines, it went fast hitting the couch soon.

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  2. I don't know what you're talking about job wise, but if it requires a 4:00'ish a.m. wake up, been there done that. During my last bit of time at ye ole corporate office, I used to panic about not being late on Thursdays. (I had to run the CIO meeting that started at 8:30 a.m.) So why 4:30 a.m.? Crazy traffic. I had to leave by 6:30 to make sure I would get there on time. (I lived 60 miles away) I was up at 4:30 so I could WAKE the F--- UP, drink some coffee, shower, get my shit together and prepare to drive for at least 90 minutes - praying that was all it would take. I DO NOT miss those days. And no, I've never written that early...I'd be churning out only sludge at that hour.

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    1. Thank God I only have to do this twice a year. At least I got out early and now I have a couch with my name and blankey on it. BTW I loved your ACYE blog post. Girl, you are too much.

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  3. Colonoscopy prep! Laughing my ass off. (Ba-dum, dum. See what I did there?)

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    1. Averil, yes I saw it.
      And how does one laugh their ass off? I mean do you laugh so hard it falls off and becomes a hole in the ground. (ba-dum,dum.)

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  4. Day two. I'm out the door. 20 below wind chill. This f-in sucks.

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  5. Yuck! There is so very little in tho world that would awake me at 4am! And you may not know how to laugh your ass off, but I bet you found out how to freeze it off!

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    1. How cold was it,and still is? It was so cold my nose hairs froze my nostrils shut. The funny thing is, I don't think I have nose hairs. It's supposed to hit 50 this weekend. Our driveway will be a thousand feet of mud-soup all the way to black-top. At least it'll be warm. Ya know, if I don't have something to complain about I'm not happy.
      Let me check my ass...yup it's still there

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