so here i am at five AM... having walked the puppies (twice), fed the puppies, and made my coffee. my mind is spinning in fourteen directions at once: how many knives, how many forks, should we use plastic, how much is cheap stainless?...if i wear the sleeveless coral dress on friday, will i be too cold outside? if i wear the long sleeve black velvet dress on friday, will i be too warm inside?
and then there's the characters. like a motley line outside a third world clinic, they stand, impatient, troubled, some luridly equipped, intent on telling ME their stories. hell, i haven't even had a NAP and i can hear them calling - some soft, some strident, all nudging for their turn, for their time. and these are just old characters from old ideas.... what about NEW characters, i think to myself, what if i want to do something FRESH?
i don't know if it's like this for any other writer but for me, while i'm busy trying to live my life i the Real World, a greek chorus in my head sings an insistent cacophony, competing for my attention at every turn.
someone asked me last night what i was planning on doing for myself as a reward for giving birth. the irony of throwing a baby shower at this very moment in time doesn't escape me, but i realized that while i've planned the dedication ritual for the equinox, when i will offer all the drafts - the last five, complete drafts - to the Harvest, i've yet to really think about doing something Really Nice - just for ME.
i'm already planning a Day of Doing Nothing for wednesday, sept 19th - which happens to be my aunt babe's birthday. and then, on the 20th, which happens to be my dear friend, lorraine's birthday, i am going to see a famous psychical person at a local university.
but what, i wonder, dear reader, would be a fitting Reward for ME?