The time is 4:01 PM. I'm sitting at my desk. The sun is streaming through the window catching the corner of my desk. The room is warm, the air is a little stale, dusty. I'm speaking into my computer and have decided not to edit anything I say. It's a test, for my computer, and for my ego. Can I post something without caring what anyone will think?
I'm speaking into an empty room, literally and figuratively. Daisy, our dog, is lying in the full sun, sleeping like she's dead. She's not listening. The clock ticks against the silence, lulling me, tricking me to speak in its rhythm. It's 4:10 PM, and even though I'm speaking, it still takes me nine minutes to write two paragraphs.
The clock ticks and taunts: "why the blank stare? Write!"
It's 7:47 PM. The sky is dark. But I can see the lights from the city. Sarah has taken Daisy for a walk. I'm done for now.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
And so I begin. My goal is to just write and see what comes. I don't really care if anyone reads this or if they do, what they think. I just want an outlet to say what I have to say.
I'm sitting in the dining room at my laptop, a bouquet of flowers in front of my face and my dear wife hammering away at her laptop beside me. We're both pulling on smoothies. It's morning, 8am exactly. After I write 3 paragraphs I'm going to have a bath and then do the dishes.
The sky is cloudy, but the day is already warm. Six weeks of record temperatures continue. If I dig in and work hard this morning, I may actually go outside enjoy the rest day.