Writer’s block

Its 3.17 am. I am wide awake. Little Miss has taken over my side of the bed. Mr. Lucky is in snore heaven. I am not there to kick him or roll him over to his ‘non snore’ side.

Once up, I stand with my crazy mop hair in my not so flattering pyjamas in the lounge room.  I don’t have that middle of the night sex goddess look. Ever.  Even when I wake up in the morning I can’t say I have ever resembled anything other than someone freakishly scary. Thankfully my children don’t know the meaning of monsters otherwise they would think they were waking up to big scary looking one. I send another prayer of thanks towards Mr. Lucky. He doesn’t see crazy mop hair monster either.

I look around and sigh. I could follow in my mother’s middle of the night insomnia fed footsteps and iron, mop the floor, pick up the toys.  I could get that pristine house look and smell going or I could log on and write.

I go for the latter.  My look is better matched to that one of a disheveled writer than a suburban housekeeper (though I think both are equally frightening in the middle of the night).

Creative people generally write at odd hours. Thinking I am creative, I lie in bed making up stories, thinking about issues, products or stories I would like to write about.  A sentence or story or poem can entertain me for what I think is hours bringing me to life as a beat starts to get my fingers typing and toes tapping. Like an uncoordinated dancer, tonight or rather, this morning – I got no rhythm.

This blog a day challenge has been fun.  I have enjoyed it.  I have done really well. I have managed  to keep up, all the while pretending to do a great job with Little Miss, the baby and Mr. Right. Today, I have nothing. Nothing! 

I have taken a break, checked emails, surfed the net, had a glass of milk, a chocolate, looked out the window to see if anyone odd is walking the street, pressed my ear against the common wall - our neighbors are normally up at this time of the night arguing. Still nothing to inspire me. 

I start to worry about the impact this two hour crazy intense computer workout will have on me tomorrow morning, will I be sore?  

Writing this type of nothingness sometimes helps my writing morph from nothing into something meaningful. One hour on – and guess what? Nothing!  Look on the bright side. There is something lovely about nothingness. There is an elegance with being still, quiet.   

For once I will let wash over me, and not worry.  Hopefully my writing style matches my state of being. Complete and utter calm and peace. Time for bed.  Breathe in; breathe out (apologies) and a very early good morning from Greece.

This blog forms part of Lisa Lintern's blog a day challenge. Visit Melodramatic Me for more.

Image courtesy of debspoons / FreeDigitalPhotos.net