Then again . . .

Answer me this:

Have you ever been laying in bed on a morning when you don’t have anywhere to be or anything in particular to do, and just as you decide you might actually get up, begin lifting your cheek away from the pillow, this unexpected wave of lethargy clobbers you over the head, and you realize you’ve made a terrifically awful decision and there’s really only one thing you can do?

abort

Yes. Well sometimes writing is also like this. Today I had the pleasure of both!

It wasn’t easy. Getting myself out of bed, I mean. Yesterday was a long day, and for the past week I’ve been staving off a cold, so what I wanted more than anything else was to dial 7 for room-service and spend the day tucked under blankets and watching movies. Then I remembered I don’t live in a hotel, nor do I employ a butler, and if I wanted food, I would have to melt it in a pan.

However . . .  after going a few rounds with my bed, eventually I prevailed by gaining the upper hand with a brilliantly unforeseen maneuver (I swiftly flung myself on to the carpet belly-flop style) and smelled my way toward the coffee.

Mug in hand, I sat down at my desk, opened my WIP, and proceeded to stare at it for a few minutes before giving it this face:

abort

Of course, some mornings are like that; it takes a bit of re-familiarizing oneself with the words before it all comes flowing back and you’re holding hands and skipping through verdant meadows, the way you were only yesterday.

Then again, some days are like cold shoulders and there’s nothing to be done but admit defeat.

saveyourself

No really, I will be. I’m going to shower and put myself together, and perhaps I’ll read for a little while before leaving to meet with a girlfriend. And of course it’s Friday, so that means date night with my darling boy, which also means we will thereby soon be shoveling glorious amounts of bread and beer into our mouths while gazing adoringly at one another through the bewitching monocle of a food coma. Don’t feel too bad for old addle-minded Cara. Yesterday I logged over 3k words, so there’s that, hooray!

To those of you writing today and those otherwise productive brains, I wish you a beautiful Friday and a lovely weekend!

~ Cara

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11 thoughts on “Then again . . .

  1. Congrats on your victory over the bed. It has it’s own gravitational pull, I swear! I got some great writing done for the first time in weeks today, then I ate chicken wings and French fries and watched movies instead of continuing on the path of productivity. Sometimes we just need breaks and ‘me’ time!

    • Thank you, Brantley. Love your name, by the way.

      And yes, you are absolutely right: it does have its own gravitational pull. I feel myself orbiting around it presently, just waiting for something to knock me back into it.

      Thrilled to hear you were able to put in some writing. Hope you enjoyed those chicken wings. Me time is essential in order to best serve we and them time.

      Blessings!

  2. No, Cara, I cannot feel too sorry that you had to drag yourself out of bed today. It sounds as if you had a productive week and a romantic Friday night coming up! Enjoy and have a great weekend. Love the kitty pics!

    • I’m not sure there has yet been a day when I don’t drag or fling myself out of bed. I suppose that’s a good thing, if I look at it from the right perspective. You also enjoy your weekend, my friend!

  3. Bed! All day long I felt GUILTY for shutting off the alarm and saying a prayer to go awake when the time was right! The time was right about an hour and a half later and I worried about all I’d not done during the time I went back to sleep.

    And then, your post.

    Now I worry about why I would even worry about the stuff I accomplished by that sleeping-in sleep–it was just as, if not more, important!

  4. VICTORY over the bed! Doesn’t beat VICTORY IN the bed, but…

    Never mind. [The steamy romance writer in me snuck out to play while I wasn’t thinking. *Slurps more coffee*]

    I still remember the date. March 31st, 1981. I was not hung over.

    I wasn’t done sleeping at 7, when my internal alarm went off. I wasn’t done sleeping at noon, when hunger forced me to the kitchen to make a PB&J sandwich on stale bread. I ate it in bed. I wasn’t done sleeping at 7 p.m. when Ramen Noodles called me back to the kitchen. By then, it was almost bed time and I still had nothing pressing to do, no adventures worth staying awake for, and no “Enough, already!” signal from Sleep Control Center.

    There. I’ve said it. I’ve outed my sloth. These days, my internal alarm goes off at five a.m. I’m an annoying, chipper morning person. Yes, there are days I open my WIP and give it the old stink eye not unlike that STELLAR picture you found.

    Hey, Meme Queen, Cara. It’s been far too long since I visited. I’d offer up my litany of excuses, but you’ll have to wait to read about them when you (faithful and patient glob reader) discover a new post on Snark E. Pen. L-O-V-E-D this piece.

    • March 31st, 1981 – What a day you had! I suppose if it were a string of them there might have been cause to worry; but I think a sloth-fest is good for the body and mind every once in a while. We underestimate just how much we are doing as we go about our daily ministrations. We live in an era in which we are constantly stimulated, prodded by an ever-poking finger of potential productivity. If we put down the device for even one second we fret over what we might have accomplished had we let our fingers continue to click-click-click. I have to remind myself to just, stop. Stop and breathe.
      I always smile when I open my shade to see the sky gloomy and foreboding, because that means it’s a mandatory movie day. Living in CA, we don’t get many rainy days, so they are like perfect pewter pearls, each of which I must claim before the shell snaps shut.

      I eagerly await your post, my dear! A lovely weekend to you!

      xxx

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