Occasionally my head goes numb with everything that fills it all day. Actually it is more often than not. I sit and I ask if I am going crazy or is it just everyone else around me. I hate to sound selfish but when this happens my writing suffers and that in turn makes me feel even more insane. There are days, filled with hours and hours of stories floating through my brain, sometimes present even when I sleep.
I awake, filled with great paragraphs and clever lines, even better profiles of characters and more vivid plots. Then, the inevitable happens, life. It is the number one most annoying thing holding me back.
LIFE.
I run to write down my newly formed clarity on napkin, kid's homework, the fridge in crayon, but before I can make it the dog trips me, my son is having a moment of obnoxious "poor me" syndrome, my youngest daughter is whining about everything, and my oldest is worried that she is going to be late to school while spending 45 minutes in the bathroom.
All the while I am getting the screaming, chaotic, barking cup of coffee that is my morning and something forms over my mind, like glaucoma, blurring my visions of best selling novels, page turning suspense, and five more minutes of peace. This thing called Life isn't always what it is cracked up to be, but I have hope, they have to move out someday? Right? Then, my brain, if not riddled with Alzheimer's might hopefully still be able to form a sentence past, "No, you cannot hit your sister with that!", and might be successful once again of having a coherent thought.
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