The siren call of sleep

Or “I know I said I’m going to bed, and I totally am right after I write this entry.”

About now, I should be getting ready for bed.  Writing tonight’s journal entry, brushing my teeth, and so on and so on.  The cursor in Microsoft Word is blinking at me in a way that says “Why are you leaving me?  I have so many words you’ve not added to your story yet.”  That’s true, by the way.  I’ve reached that creative stride where I find myself writing almost effortlessly.  I’m sure the editing phases of this novel-to-be will be less smooth, but let’s not think about that now.

My bed, of course, is calling to me.  It’s saying how comfortable the comforter is (with emphasis on how those are practically the same word, obviously), how fluffy my pillow is, and how I will hate myself if I don’t get to sleep soon because I have a solid eight hours ahead of me at work tomorrow, and that’s a thought that makes my blood run cold these days.  And, really, any day because work is indeed work.  I’m not overly fond of work.  Mind you, I still can’t complain because it’s a great job that’s been a tremendous help.  It still isn’t writing for a living, but it helps enable the act of writing in my spare time and so I’ll take what I can get.

Now if I were to go back in time and tell myself I would have written over seven thousand new words worth of “Joshua’s Nightmares” over the course of a couple days, I would ask myself why I’m not putting time travel abilities to better use.  My moral compass points to get-rich quick schemes involving time travel.  That’s not actually the point, though.

I have made tremendous progress in terms of drafting “Joshua’s Nightmares”, which has in turn made me even more enthusiastic about working on it.  Being tired from my day-job becomes a non-issue when I get home and open Microsoft Word.  This is what I went to college for, and why I have continued to write; to recapture this feeling of happiness and accomplishment.  Okay, and maybe because I think I would just die if I stopped writing.  Nobody say that’s a good thing.  I know one or two of you are thinking it, and you are so on my shit-list.

Small confession, by the way: I wish I had some moderately decent artistic skills in terms of drawing or painting.  Down the road, I may have to pony up the money to get someone to draw a map of the Sleep State to go with “Joshua’s Nightmares”.  It would look so cool.  Trust me.  I’m probably not trying to be an unreliable narrator in this post.

The siren call of sleep has reached the point where I can’t ignore it any longer, and so I’m going to head to bed.  Wishing you all a good night, and plenty of highly productive days of creativity.  Oh, and don’t freeze tomorrow because apparently there’s more frigid fun on the way.

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