Skip to main content

Warning: This Post Was Written on 3 Hours' Sleep

I had a simple plan for the summer. Basically, I want to get up each morning and walk 3 miles, write for a few hours, and do some stupid little project around the house like fold the clothes in the third drawer. Um, it hasn't happened.

While I was at the library Monday working on the writing project I just finished at 5 this morning, I found out my niece was going to come down for her visit that day. After a frantic house cleaning session which more resembled making sure I picked all the bras out from between the couch cushions and at least lined up my shoes by the front door, I only had 9 of my 25 articles outlined.

Despite my best efforts to write in the morning before she woke, I found myself writing for six hours last night, stopping three times to set my cell phone alarm clock for 10 minute naps in my desk chair. They're done.

Right now I wouldn't trade the dark circles under my eyes or that sickly feeling in my stomach. My niece had never seen the Gulf of Mexico. She lives along the Chesapeake Bay, so she's no stranger to the ocean. Her ocean, though, is cold, rough water filled with jellyfish. There's something so thrilling to be with someone the first time they witness the mystical miracle of the sea.

Even though she hated carrying that beach chair and her feet were already sliding in her flip flops, she climbed to the top of the steps leading the beach. And gasped. The water here is a stunning turquoise. And I GOT TO SEE HER FACE WHEN SHE SAW IT. It's priceless. She was completely amazed that she could actually swim in the water here without fear of stinging sea creatures.

So we swam. We floated. We jumped in the current and let it carry us away. We lounged inside my new sun shade? It's like a tent that once I tore up the directions and attemtped to set up the wrong way turns out to be a piece of cake to set up. No sun rays are going to get me there. That's my perfect day at the beach. A little swimming and a whole lot of not getting touched by any sunlight.

Comments

Christy said…
What a treasure to share that with someone! And I am absolutely sure that it wouldn't be worth the trade-off for un-circled eyes and a rested mind.
I have found that making up schedules for myself really doesn't work. My body and my brain have their own way of doing things when they want to get them done and, try as I might, I never can seem to get them to conform to my ideas of what routine should be.
frabjouspoet said…
Yeah, I'm not much for scheduling either. I still can't figure out why I think it's more productive to wait to the last minute and then rush around like a mad woman.

Popular posts from this blog

Pardon the Interruption

It's 10:00. My race clothes are laying across the top of the dog crate. I've already consumed my all-natural sleep aid. The alarm is set for 4:45 in the morning. I should be sleeping, but my mind is spinning at an unnatural rate. Remember this poem ? The subject of that poem married just a few weeks ago, and I just finished looking through his wedding photos. It's a strange feeling. Not one of loss. Or Regret. Or even wistfulness. I'm thoroughly happy for both of them in a way that will seriously not make sense to most of the people I know. I suppose there will always be an odd sense of knowing in a situation like this. I know the feel of those lips. I've seen that look in his eyes. What I felt for him was real and pure and drives the feeling of satisfaction that is currently overwhelming me. I love knowing that he's in love--even if it's not with me. I even saved my favorite photo to my computer because the image stirred something in me that needs to be sti...

TMI and Tidal Waves

As usual, it's been a busy week around these parts, and none of my activities this week involved running. If my grandmother could hear at the moment and complete a sentence without hacking up a lung, she'd ask me what's wrong. I'd have to confess that my eczema has flared up in this oh-so-cold-there's-ice-on-my-car south Florida weather, and my skin is so itchy that I have bruises up and down my limbs from all the scratching I've been doing. There are some days I'm relieved to know men with calloused hands. (Before you take that last comment too seriously, remind yourself that I am writing this at 9:30 on a Friday night.) Anyway... I met up for coffee with someone last night who proved to stoke my creative juices. I'll spare you the details of the conversation, but I did have to stop him mid sentence to point out that that particular conversation will most definitely become part of "La Isla Encontrada." Fortunately, he agreed to it, and I fully...

Trying to Keep It All Together

The title of this post is a bit of a misnomer. Just this morning I said, "I'm having a hard time getting it together right now." I'm in one of those periods when showing up is the best I can offer, and I can't even guarantee that. That said, I just popped on here to share that I'm struggling. I'm dealing with a lot of loss right now. Some of it is easy to spot. Some of it I've tucked away because it's either terribly painful or terribly embarrassing--at least to me. Some of it was inevitable. Some of it was a surprise. All of it rises up into the center of my chest and begs me to stop for a moment to acknowledge it. It's doing that right now even as I type this. I'm having a hard time getting it together right now.