For the last several weeks I have been desperately trying to figure out what in the world it was that I wanted to write about. I came up with ... nothing. There weren't any great revelations or ideas, no big thoughts or for that matter, small thoughts. Then began the self-beatings. If I wanted to be a writer, shouldn't I write? Uh huh. Whatever. Well, of course that is true, but the beatings were about more than I could take. I didn't do much of anything, to be completely honest. Well, there are several seasons of Stargate: SG-1 that have been watched by now, but nothing that could possibly be construed as creative has been going on in my life.
It is amazing to me what a few words from someone I respect will do to me, though.
This morning I read a post by Seth Godin - "In and Out." All I focused on was his second to last line, "Time to start writing." Ummm, ok. You're right. So, I'm writing again, beginning with a few crazy thoughts and ending with ... who knows!
I almost feel like I should simply write down the thoughts that I have rolling around in my brain for future blog posts, because I'm desperately afraid that I will run into a two month writing block again. I can't tell you how that terrifies me.
The only thing that has kept me sane at all is that I have committed to write every day on my other blog "Pour Out a Blessing" and I can't break that kind of commitment. I put a few hundred words on the page every day and that has helped.
Next Monday I start my second semester of classes. I'm sick-to-my-stomach terrified of that. I may have overcommitted my brain to this next semester and if I come out on the other side with any bits and pieces left, I'll feel really alive. At this point, every time I think about it, I'm nauseous. Oh, you can tell me that I'll do fine, but I know what's ahead of me and that pit of snakes in "Indiana Jones" seems easier to get through.
The last few days have seen me handling what everyone else has dealt with lately - I haven't felt much like doing anything at all while fighting off upper respiratory garbage. I rearranged my desk so that I had more usable space. I haven't succumbed to spreading out on the large dining/kitchen table and want to keep myself confined to a smaller area, so sometimes it requires new thought. The second monitor that was a Christmas gift is extraordinary, but forced me to rethink how I place things and how I work. The first arrangement was ok, but I'm hoping the second will be better.
I feel a little more prepared to open books and schedule my time for the coursework.
Considering that rearranging my desk space was probably the most excitement I've had while feeling out of it, the fact that I feel GREAT today and inspired to write makes waiting for the impending snowstorm of doom a lot more exciting.
I drove into Webster City this morning to get groceries. For those of you who complain about running down to the grocery store - I've learned a new meaning for planning ahead. A one-way twenty minute drive on gravel roads and county highways requires planning. To get a few things from the smaller market in Stratford requires a mere ten minute drive one way. It's entertaining, though, being accustomed to having incredible options at those immense grocery stores in Omaha, to being quite limited by smaller stores. Kalamata olives? Ummm ... nope. Feta Cheese? Well, Kraft sells some - that's all there is - one option. They have everything I need and I'm not complaining, it just forces one to readjust one's thinking.
Anyway, I stopped to get gas on the way out of town and the guy who pulled in behind me was filling a gas can. I asked if he was preparing for the coming snow. "That's exactly what I'm doing!" So, I decided to press my luck and since I don't have television out at the cabin, I asked him what was coming. The last I read, it was 1-2" but he let me know that we'd be lucky to get away with 5-8" and that in southeast Iowa, where he should be heading to visit his father in the hospital was planning for 15-18"!! Ok, that's hilarious.
My friends up here will plow me back out when the storm is nearly over and I'll be free to move about the country, but until then, I am looking forward to the wild storm that is supposed to come. I might (or might not) do some baking, I will do some writing and I have to say ... it's a good life.
