I’m not going to write today. I’m dog tired and bleary from a very busy few days, so no, I’m not going to write today.
You see, I’m really good at starting things, but it’s a challenge to cross the finish line. A typical firstborn, I like to make a great impression off the bat and so pour almost every ounce of myself into that first few moments of a project/friendship/etc.
But sometimes something odd happens. It’s like someone or something unplugs me and my power drains out. I need recharging all the time – is this how other creatives feel? Or am I but one?
So you see, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to write today. I just don’t have it in me. My mind is slushy, not from alcohol but from sleep deprivation. Did you know that even if you’re getting sleep every night, you can still be deprived? I learned that a little while back. It makes sense now how some days I feel like I wander through, vaguely managing to get things done but having no sense of time or direction.
It’s just going to be too hard to write today. My arms are sore from working solidly yesterday and my body just wants to lie on the couch and absorb sound waves from the telly. But it’s funny you know, because we think that watching telly will help us relax, because that’s what we’ve been taught it does, but it’s a lie.
It saturates us, numbing us to the sensations we are otherwise surrounded by: birds, trees, rivers and seas.
We can watch them on the telly – even see ones that we will never see in our lifetime. That’s a good thing, right? And as we marvel at the rare insect from the Amazon crawling along our telly, we miss the wondrous marvel of the spider systematically weaving its web outside our back door.
So, I’m no going to write today. And I’m not going to watch telly. I may have to unplug the darn thing but I will resist. At least until dinner time, when me and my family gather around it to eat. We watch, we chat, we commentate on world events from our armchairs and scoff our food down. We catch up on our shows and crawl to bed after an evening of entertainment. We miss each other’s cues and go to sleep, blissfully unaware of each other’s worries.
But we’ve shared family time and can tick that off the list for today. That’s got to be worth something, doesn’t it?
Anyway, I just thought you had a right to know that I’m not in the mood to write today, so I’m not going to write. Thanks for understanding.