Yesterday my partner told my father in a text message that I sleep in like a teenager. Sleeping until 7:30 or even 8 am doesn’t seem that bad to me, especially compared to my late teenaged habits.
At first intending to defend myself, I decided not to waste the time. After all, I had better things to do.
That’s when it hit me. I don’t act like a teenager. I’m acting like a writer.
|Occasionally I Write Here|
I spend nearly every waking moment possible at the keyboard either polishing a tale or storytelling anew. How many folks forget to eat on a semi regular basis until nauseating hunger strikes?
(Okay, I skipped many meals as a self absorbed teen, as well. But some of that was to save lunch money for buying books.)
|This is Where I'm Typing This Blog Post|
Anyway, I would say that easily a third of my overall sustenance is devoured out of a sandwich bag so dining doesn’t impinge upon writing time more than necessary. Just yesterday I gulped a piece of fruit out of a bag while standing in the kitchen so as not to waste precious seconds cutting my peach into a bowl. The same can be said for those microwaveable burritos that hooked me for a while.
(Who needs a fork?)
|Wanted to Write Here (Lacked the Time and it was HOT)|
As for those in my family who do rise at 5am (for no good reason, I might add), it’s guaranteed not a single soul stayed up the night before until two o’clock trying to get one more paragraph perfected before succumbing to exhaustion. My partner will admit to seldom spending more than five minutes reading an online article.
Of course videos are a different story. In fact I’m hearing a string of them play in the next room while I type. Meanwhile, I’ve often polished a ten thousand plus word short story in one sleepless stretch.
|The View from My Dining Table/ Frequent Desk|
Yeah. Don’t wake me before six am unless you’re taking me fishing. Sad to say that hasn’t happened in years. ~sigh~ Oh, well. Maybe one of these days…
What pleasant obsession is occupying your August?