Short and Sweet

Short and sweet.  Today's blog is nothing more than a simple rant on why I can and can't write to my heart's content.  What is this thing called life - obligation - that keeps getting in my way?  Children, grandchildren, laundry...

If I stay home I am inclined to clean the freezer, run an appliance or two.  If I visit my kids, I want to get on the floor and play with a toddler or baby.  If I go to a coffee shop I have to buy an expensive drink and then stew about my dislike of Starbucks, et al.

Right now I am in the library.  I do not own a printer so I come here to procure a page or two of necessities.  I like the wafting small voices coming from the children's library.  I like the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights.  I like the promise that the air will be ever so slightly warmer when I exit this building than when I entered.

I appreciate my fortitude to rise early, clean house, eat Wheatena for breakfast.  I dig knowing the dishwasher runs without me suffering the noise and cycles.  That laundry will  be dry.  The house aired out with an infusion of almost crisp fall breezes.

What keeps me from writing?  Actually, everything.  The TV, NPR, politics, lunch with friends.  The gym, Al-Anon, running errands.  Reading books, talking on the phone.  Facebook!  Damn that Facebook.  

Maybe this is all writing in disguise.  In order to write about life and love and loathing, I need experiences.  Human interaction.  If I choose to write about nature, I have to get out there and commune with the trees, and flowers.  Listen for birdsong - those feathered beauties have so much to teach me.

Short and sweet.  That is my mantra for today.

Time to Write,

Jane