Sleepless Days

Or should I say, The Muse strikes again?

I came home from work yesterday dead tired.  I spent a large portion of the day battling both internal customers and my son Ryan.  Take Our Children to Work day is always fun because it gives Ryan and I some one-on-one time, except this year it seems teenage attitude has taken over what was once a really sweet, open kid.  Yesterday I would’ve paid him money if he’d just SMILE.  He fought it tooth and nail, too.  He’s like the cruise commercial where the mother’s videotaping her daughter, talking about coming on vacation to find something elusive.  Then she says, “And there it is!” and she catches her daughter smiling while sitting astride a Jetski.  The difference with Ryan is, he just wouldn’t smile.  His lips quivered and his eyes twinkled, but he refused to let me see him smile.  Maybe it’s all that time I spend nagging him to brush his teeth, finally catching up with him.

Anyway, I got home, turned on the computer, grabbed the iPod and went to lay down for a few minutes, just to recharge the batteries.  I had every intention of exercising, but first I needed to unwind.  I set the Pod to shuffle and closed my eyes, and the first song that came on was something by Josh Groban.  I don’t even remember what it was, but it sounded so calm and soothing and yet intensely powerful that I heard that voice in the back of my head saying, “You need to write this down.”  “In a minute,” I told it and closed my eyes.  Less than a minute later I heard, “You need to write this.”  As if it was a package deal, I also found I couldn’t keep my eyes closed, and soon after I couldn’t relax anymore, so I ran to the computer–no idea what I was going to write–and found myself adding to this recycled plot I opened up the other day.  Before I knew it, John was home and I’d added 2K more words to the story.  Strangely enough, I wasn’t all that tired afterward, either. 

Gotta love that Muse.  She’s definitely more active when I exercise.  It must have something to do with blood flowing faster and more oxygen in the brain.  Whatever it is, I might hate to exercise but I’m doing it anyway, if only to make sure the Muse doesn’t go on an extended vacation any time soon.  I still need to edit “Lost Time” and rewrite “Release Point”, but now “One More Roll” is moving along and I’m a happy camper.  Yay!

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