It’s gray and rainy, my favorite kind of morning. Most mornings like this, I find myself inspired and ready to write. Something must be off here in Texas, though, because it’s been a strange twelve hours, and I need a bit more help in the inspiration department this morning.
It all started last night, after a long talk with a friend whose divorce was finalized Monday. She’s only 22 years old, and there’s been some crazy stuff happening, but I just did my job – I listened. And then, I left.
Apparently, the gorgeous landscaping at her apartment is actually a grass-covered swamp, which I found out by unfortunate experience. I took a shortcut to my car so I wouldn’t have to walk alone in the shadows of her complex, and came out on the other side muddy and without shoes. Seriously – I took two steps, sank down two feet, and am now short two flip flops. Poor garden maintenance guy, he’ll probably think there’s a girl buried in the mud, because I just left them there. With muddy jeans and muddy feet, I crossed the parking lot and drove home.
This morning, I ate a chicken biscuit from Chick-fil-A, which usually taste divine slathered in honey. You know what’s not divine when it’s slathered in honey? My glasses, and also, my entire eyebrow. Somehow they both ended up covered in the gooey stuff, even though I squirted only a few drops onto my biscuit, at waist-high level. No, I have no idea.
Also this morning, I almost rear-ended a car because they — and the car in the next lane — mysteriously came to a stop at a very obvious green light. I joined in the honking cacophony, of course, and they sped up.
Got home, found my husband’s debit card on the table, so I sent him a text message lest he need money and worry about its absence. He wrote back, “Whoops! Forgot to put it back. AND I just noticed my zipper’s down. Goodness me…”
Crazy times here in Texas, crazy times.
Which means I must have amazing potential with my writing today, or else the universe would not be conspiring against me. I’ve trudged through the sludge and honey, yet still feel excited about immersing myself into the little world of my novel and getting real with my characters again today.
May your day be mud-free and your eyebrows un-honeyed.
PS: I finished this post about half an hour ago. I feel the need to add that I just stepped on a wicked painful carpet tack, which for some reason, is jutting up right outside the bathroom door. It feels worse than it looked, only a few droplets of blood sprang to the surface. Sheesh.