The Crazy Pursuit

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Worst Case Scenario.”

I wonder what my friends think of me and my uncommon activities. No, I’m not into drugs or prostitution,  it’s worse than that.  At four o’clock in the morning I get up (whenever I’m off from work, otherwise is six o’clock) sit down with my tablet and write if I could.  There are days that I can’t then I don’t. And there are days that I can but then I can’t.  The last couple of days I was blaming my work crazy schedule because I can’t. Sneaking in the early morning hours or before going to bed to write has left me most of the time trying hard to stay awake than blog and write.  Frankly before that, writing took  back seat actually. Learning WordPress was an indispensable option. And now that  I have the basic knowledge of wordpress,  apparently, my  hurdles aren’t over yet.  There is always one that follows.  To  have a routine is primarily  recommended by the gods of this craft  for  beginner writer/blogger. I can’t  do that.  I just do what I could do by reserving  any available days exclusively   for writing.  But  I am telling you there is always a hurdle.  I don’t know if this is what one writer calls resistance. It comes out when we try to make something out of ourselves. Resistance I think is the twin child  of desire. When  I find the time to write, my phone rings.

Despite all the above, once in a while  I could still  navigate  the blogging heavens. Until  one day, my laptop screen is shaking. Now what?  If it rains, it pours, or do they come in threes?  For weeks I was on my knees  praying to all Internet geeks asking for waranty that this is a minor trouble. My prayers, unanswered I can’t take it anymore. I have to buy a new one.

And now get ready for this,  the real issue comes.   Staying  home alone and sitting in my glue chair after sometime,  inspiration just doesn’t come by. Believe me, I tried going out to the local library, Starbucks, dunkin’ donuts, a forest, a cemetery or the mall  but their internet service is unreliable.  But,  I think the writing gods  is watching my persistence because one day  he opened my eyes showing  me the place.  At one time I had a temp job and on my way to work,  I’d  get my coffee there.  It was the diner where I’d get coffee.  For a couple of mornings I’d sit down open my laptop, start writing, then head to work.  For a couple mornings I’d be in heaven posting and publishing.

So, one day   I need an inspiration and I want to go back to that diner,  hook back  with my morning muse, test myself how far can I go running after her.  My friend who starts work at 5 in the morning agreed to drop me off at that diner early in the morning and pick me up after lunch. My plan was just to stay there until the city library opens  I don’t think they’ll like me there for half day.

But this time I need to do an errand, to deposit my check.  I was sure that 36 hours before I placed on top of the table the envelope with a check inside. And so at 4 o’clock in the morning  a question and answer was going back and forth between us. It was my last week’s pay. I told him I’d stay to find it, but he won’t let me.  So there we were inside the vehicle, him telling me how bad my day will get  because  I won’t be able to concentrate with my writing. For him this is a sympathy  event  for similar situations he had  in the past.  With him worrying for me,  talking about the logical possible locations of the check, I admit helped me a bit.

For me the worst case scenario is to ask for a replacement check. And, at the end of the day    to find inspiration for writing.

Advertisements

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s