I’m not sure where it came from. Maybe it’s because things at work are quiet. It’s mid-May, halfway from the last quarter close, halfway to the next quarter close. June is when things heat up, but this is May. Even the sales reps are thinking vacation.
I came in yesterday and couldn’t sit still. No idea why, but it was like I had ten things on my desk to do, they were all due yesterday, and I couldn’t find any of them. In reality, I had nothing on my desk to do. It got even better when the shared server went down, sucking out everything in my department folder until all that’s left is my name on a subfolder and an error message. I’m told I may have to call the Help Desk to get the issue addressed, but that’s my last resort. I’d much rather the problem either spontaneously resolves itself or my computer bursts into flame.
Anyway, when I got home, even though I was tired (and took a 20 minute nap), I was still restless. I felt like a soda bottle someone had shaken up but then didn’t take the cap off, only the bubbles just didn’t settle. I made dinner, did the dishes, tried to sit and watch the ball game and crochet, but I couldn’t. I spent almost an hour playing FreeCell because sitting at the kitchen table, my constant foot-rattling wouldn’t irritate John. By 10 I wasn’t feeling so well so I curled up in bed and fell instantly asleep but I kept waking up, itching. (Weird, I know. I also had some very bizarre dreams but I can’t remember any of them.)
This morning isn’t any different, but I started thinking, maybe it’s me. (Duh; what else would it be?) I haven’t written, other than here and my journal, in 2 days; maybe it’s creative writing withdrawal. I thought a few days “off” would be good for me, let me catch up on family time and unfinished crochet projects, but right now I don’t think that’s the case. It’s altogether possible I’m an addicted writer, and this restless feeling is what happens when I don’t move a story forward. I hesitate to compare this to drug addiction, but I can’t think straight, I can’t focus for very long, and I’m jumpy. By the end of the day I feel drained and antsy all at the same time. I’ve opened my rewrite project every morning for the last two days, and every night I’ve closed it, untouched. I think it’s time to get back to it.
Years ago on the Carol Burnett Show, she had a skit with a writer on one side of the screen, reading aloud as she (he?) typed a story, and in the cloud bubble overhead, characters acted out what she/he wrote. Oftentimes it was hysterical because the writer would make changes mid-stream and the characters would have to react and reverse course. I wonder if that’s what’s happening with me, only Paul and Grace are getting tired of waiting for me to make them make their moves, and they’re spiritually pushing me back to their world. If that’s true, then OKAY FOLKS, I GET THE POINT! 🙂