I woke up this morning, my eyes turned to the window hoping to get a quick estimate to the hour of the day. Not trusting the pitch black open window, a confirmation from the clock says 5:30 am. That body clock. It doesn’t recognize a Sunday, a holiday, or a weekend even a vacation. Darn. And the guy beside me needs to have his breakfast. A minute of delay turns him into $&?$?&@. In order not to be bothered by cooking, told him I’m having a cereal, meaning he cook his own food. He kept on asking me why, told him I have to write something in thirty minutes before we head out to church. I instead was treated to scoffing remark, “what, you’re not a columnist or a writer to have a deadline”. That’s what I get for not making his breakfast. It’s Sunday, the day of the Lord, keep quiet, I told myself and shut my mouth. I went to the kitchen picked up my bowl of cereal and finish breakfast as soon as I can. Going back to the room, I fix the bed then began getting dressed for church before I hear more depressing remarks curtailing my dreams of a future writing career.
I’m supposed to be at an ideal point in time of every writer’s life, just writing, not working for the meantime. Albeit, it wasn’t what I thought it would be. With one blog post then nothing else. When I had to report to work, I wrote 300 words in thirty minutes before going to work. Then I would have another draft thirty minutes before I go to bed.
That saying that goes, “love begets love”, best describes what I experienced. More activities begets writing. More work begets writing.
What is the one thing that drives you in the morning? In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Forward Drive.”