I awakened early this morning, about four hours early, before the birds or the sun were up. I read for a while, seeking a jumpstart on my day through inspiration. I got nothing. I ate breakfast, fed the dogs, loaded and ran the dishwasher, loaded and ran the washing machine, dressed for the day. Still nothing.
At this point, I ponder my options.
I have 4,000 words of a 7,000 word story completed. I have half a novel completed. The Writers of the Desert Rose Cafe has started the next anthology, a Christmas themed one this time. I haven’t started my taxes yet. I can work on any of these projects and be productive. Yet I can’t muster the energy to start anything.
My shoulder hurts. I am almost three weeks post-surgery. I want to blame my lethargy on the pain, but it would be a ruse. The fact is I am in a funk.
Now what?
Recently I wrote about my Uncle Dick and his family newsletter that he sends out monthly. The new one sits on the ottoman in front of me. I open it and read.
About page two, I chuckle to myself while reading a humorous commentary Uncle Dick has borrowed from the Time Union. Afterwards, I grab the computer and start this post. It’s progress. At least I have written almost 300 words today. And it’s not yet 9 o’clock in the morning. So there’s still hope to get something done and scratched off the to-do list. Right now, I am happy for a belly laugh and 200+ words.
Fay Moore: I Want To Be a Writer 