1. I frequently find myself inspired to write at the most inconvenient of times, such as when I am working, driving, showering, or on the toilet. (Don't act surprised. Like you've never had a Deep Thought while perched on the porcelain throne?) By the time I am able to seat myself at a writing device with a proper keyboard, the inspiration is gone. Without that spark, the writing feels empty. Fake, somehow devoid of authentic emotion. In similar fashion, I will occasionally begin writing, but when interruptions inevitably crop up, I'm forced to abandon the piece on which I was working. I don't feel right about publishing anything that I don't consider to be a complete work, and as a result, I have dozens of half-finished pieces sitting in my draft folder. I find this personally annoying. I enjoy writing, and other people seem to enjoy reading what I write, so what is the point of of a talent that I'm not able to share? In short, I am going to make an effort to publish more often, even if it's in a less formal fashion.
2. My kid's first birthday is tomorrow. It's an astonishing feat to have kept him alive for this long, when he attempts to thwart my efforts on a daily basis. That child isn't afraid of anything. If I leave the door to the garage open, he could literally be three houses away before I note his absence, and he is ONE. What is going to happen when he learns how to open doors by himself? I shudder to think. His favorite passtimes at age one include, banging his toys on anything that he could possibly scratch or dent, slamming doors, pushing big things with wheels (which is a problem at the grocery store when he wants to push the cart himself) and watching tv. (Yes, my one-year-old watches tv. The Baby Channel. Judging Panel: Go ahead and judge.) We'll be celebrating the amazing accomplishment of maintaining a healthy human for 365 days by throwing a big party and enjoying copious amounts of food and alcohol. The baby is invited.
3. I waste an unbelievable amount of coffee. Every two days, I brew a large pot, and pour myself a nice fresh mug. I add milk, sweetener, and occasionally a flavored creamer. If it's my day off, I'll throw in some Rumchada. (Yes, I put booze in my coffee. In the morning. BEFORE NOON. Again, I defer to the Judging Panel.) I will take a few sips, and then get distracted. Laundry, child care, shower...all of these things eventually lead to cold coffee. I will reheat the mug and maybe get a few more sips before it becomes cold again. At this point, I generally abandon my efforts, and make a mental note to prepare myself a fresh (reheated) cup before work. A few hours later, I will do exactly that. Reheat a fresh cup of coffee in the microwave, add the proper accouterments, and transfer into a travel mug for work. I will leave the travel mug on the counter, so I can grab it on my way out the door, and fifty percent of the time I will forget it entirely. My husband will find it a few hours later, standing alone on the counter. He will either dump it, or put it in the fridge for me to reheat the next morning. By the time I see the day-old coffee in the fridge, I will already have prepared a fresh cup, and it will get dumped out anyway. The other fifty percent of the time, I will remember to bring the mug to work, and (after spilling some of it on the console on the way there) it will become too cold to drink and I will move the travel mug out of everyone's way and then forget the mug at work. I repeat this cycle almost daily. SIGH. You're welcome, Folgers.
