A Normal Day
Last night, I dreamed about dating Stephen Colbert. It was sexy in a very farcical kind-of way. I was disappointed that we didn’t make love.
I woke at 6:30 having hit the snooze button way too many times. I did not make it to the gym.
I went to work and worked too hard. I had anxiety in the morning. I drank a lot of coffee. It probably didn’t help. We had a half day at school so we could catch up on paper work, but I spent my “free time” in a meeting that I didn’t want to go to. I didn’t catch up on anything.
I picked Silas up from day care. He made funny faces and stuck both fists in his mouth when he saw me. Then he growled. I had to carry him like a football to the car because he did not want to leave.
We went to my psychiatrist’s. She made a lot of sense out of the world. She also changed my medication because I’ve been so god-awful depressed. She commented that she liked my skirt.
When we got home, I did the dishes. Silas played on the floor at my feet. He entertained himself with a box of spaghetti. I was happy. He seemed like an angel.
My husband came in with a pot of violets and a deli dinner. We ate at the table on the back deck. Pesto pasta, cucumber salad, and a roasted turkey breast. The turkey was dry, but I didn’t have to cook. Silas wouldn’t eat because he wanted to run around like a wild beast. We let him.
Silas refused to be put in pajamas. With two of us, it was still difficult to pin him down. But, we succeeded. We climbed into bed for “snuggle time” and read Can you find the Duck? It was great fun. Silas only cried for a minute thirty when we put him in his crib. Then he babbled for an hour more.
I folded laundry and decided to tidy up the “reading room”. Then I sat at my desk and pulled out “The Writer’s Tool Box”.
“The Writer’s Tool Box” is a handy-dandy writing kit complete with a timer and little colored sticks with different scenarios on them and cards that look like fortune cards with little sensory phrases and wheels of destiny that really spin. It looks cool, but is pretty cheesy.
Tonight I decided to play the “Sixth Sense Game”. I selected three cards by touching each one until I felt a tingle. (I do that with Scrabble tiles and it generally works.) I selected: “the voice of the ex-wife”, “the sound of Marcie’s feet”, and “the taste of Woody Allen’s kiss”. I almost vomited.
I chose to write about the first card and came up with the following 55 word story:
I found the letter among his things.
“John,” it read. “I should never have trusted you.”
The letter did not mention pregnancy specifically.
Still, there was little left to do but confront him.
I padded down the hall, letter in hand, and opened his office door.
“John,” I said. “I never should have trusted you.”
I’m not terribly impressed with myself. But, it is 55 words exactly.
Now, I’m typing this. I will write a bit more and get my Cullen fix.
I am so thrilled to have had a normal day. For once.
