Did you ever have one of those days where you feel so uninspired that you just want to stay in bed? Obviously, from my rhetorical line of questioning, it is exactly that kind of day for me. I planted my seeds in my planters, I put new mini shades on the chandelier, I cleaned the bunny pen, I dusted the bedroom. Not a single inspired thought came into my head.
Yesterday was quite different. I had a flow of ideas that were fantastic. Where did I have them? While I was in the car, alone, driving. Terrific! Did I have a digital recorder to at least get the ideas saved? NO. How frustrating to have the answer to my secondary storyline and to lose it because I am driving. Lesson learned- ALWAYS HAVE A WAY TO RECORD AN IDEA!!!
Please Oprah…
I applied to the Oprah show yesterday. It is for superfans of the Twilight series. That would be me. I type this while I am listening to the audio of Twilight that is playing on my iTunes player right now. Bella is being tormented by James. It is my daily fix. It usually does the trick when I am having a bad time. Even that is not inspiring me today…*sigh*
Yes, I DO realize that I am a fully grown woman of nearly 40. Yes I AM a pretty normal person. No, I DON’T want to marry Robert Pattinson (although I would like to follow his career. He seems to be developing into a gifted actor.) I am not a stalker, nor am I creepy. Ok, perhaps a little creepy but that has nothing to do with my Twilight addiction. I WILL be in line at 11:59 on June 29th waiting to see Eclipse with some of my other TwiHards. Can’t even say I am a “Twilight Mom” since I am guessing they have human children instead of rabbits. Oh well, we all have our guilty pleasures don’t we?
Writing Style…
Do I lead the reader too much? I often question this so I need feedback…
As I drove the ten minutes to town center and carefully parallel parked, I mentally ran down today’s “to do” list in my head. Thankfully, I wasn’t late so my meeting could actually be productive. After congratulating myself for not pulverizing any other motorists while attempting to park, I grabbed my home-brewed Earl Grey latte and separated my keys to find the one fitting the door to the gallery. The gallery facade was all angular cuts of window pane. It was actually designed by a local stained glass artisan who used different types of clear glass with large slices of Murano glass cane mixed in. I stood for a moment, marveling at the fact that glaziers had the coolest jobs ever. The window itself was worth a mint and the insurance on it alone was staggering. Not having to pay the premiums myself allowed me to have a great appreciation for its beauty.
As I opened the door, I started the complicated ballet of balancing the cup, my purse, my laptop case and my lunch in one hand while tapping in the code to the security alarm. Some mornings, I felt like I would need to be an octopus to even enter the gallery. The last thing I needed was to have to explain to the alarm company and the police that I didn’t get to the keypad in time because I didn’t want to spill my latte. That wouldn’t really fly all that well.
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