After a long day at the office yesterday, my brain was fried. The last thing I wanted to do was go home and write. I much preferred the idea of swimming in a bowl of garlic pasta while sipping pinot, listening to Sade as my boyfriend rubs my feet. Instead, I came home to my bulimic cat, adoring boyfriend (sans foot rub) and my laptop, sheepishly mocking me from the couch.
I was recently asked to write a guest column pertaining to a certain untapped genre (for this publication), and have been toying with ideas in my head for weeks.
Excited for the writing opportunity, my fingers have playfully teased the keys as my mind floated through ideas, never landing on a solid piece. After exchanging follow-up emails with the editor on Sunday, I knew teasing time was over and it was time to drop trou.
Kevin has been hearing me go on and on (I do that a lot) about this project. With unwavering patience and a little verbal push, he plays the supportive boyfriend role well. I don't know how he does it; even I get tired of my voice at times, and I am a classic narcissist.
Get out of your head. You are thinking too much. Kevin quietly leads a cheer. After thinking too much about not thinking too much, it finally clicked. My fingers found foucs.
Sitting next to each other on our writing chairs last night, as if working on his and hers lap tops, we shared creative silence. After five hours (and one glass of pinot) I finished. Well, I finished the beginning of something really great.
Sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself is get out of your own way. Having someone in my corner to assure there are no land minds on the road is just priceless.