Pennywise for your thoughts

What happened to me?! I just now realized that this is the second post in a row that I’ve started with a stupid question. But seriously. WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?! Not that long ago, I used to be able stay up long enough to catch the rolling credits of the ten-o’clock news. I’m not even sure if the ten-o’clock news has rolling credits, but you know what I mean, right? I used to have enough energy to IMAGINE myself doing late-night things, like taking a late-night drive in the country or through some empty grocery aisles or, better yet, having a late-night rendezvous at the local Holiday Inn Express with some good-lookin’ sailor who was stationed in the Azores and is now back stateside wanting nothing more in life than to balance my checkbook and do my taxes and pour me another glass of red wine. You see, I once had the OOMPH in me to dream big. Except that now, the mere IDEA of those kinds of thoughts makes me burst into laughter. Or tears, depending on the time of the month. If I have to add the phrase “late-night” in front of something, I’m slowly starting to realize that said something isn’t gonna happen… unless IT is late-night sleep, of course.

I had all the children in bed by 8:30 last night. PLENTY of time left to sit down and finish my revising. And so I turned on some soft lighting, grabbed a blanket and a notepad and made myself comfortable on the couch… regrettably, TOO comfortable. When I realized that I was dozing, I did all that I could legally do. I got up, poured myself a cup of coffee, noshed on a piece of toast and moved to the desk, minus the blanket and soft lighting. But then the whirring noises of the computer reminded my body that all it really wanted in this whole wide world was the warmth of that blanket sprawled across the sofa and OH! that great, new pillow whispering my name from upstairs, and maybe for the soft lighting (and, who am I kidding, ALL lighting) to disappear completely until morning. I mean, is that asking so much, it whined relentlessly. “IT,” being this ripened body.

There’s nothing I hate more than whining, except maybe people who double park. I hate it even more when I realize that I’M the whining double parker. So, like an idiot, I thought I’d just try to placate my whining body a little by taking the notepad and going upstairs where the pillow laid waiting. Maybe if I just give in to the need for a pillow, maybe then I can squeeze out an hour of awake time to write, I told myself. Just the pillow. Just the pillow. And that’s the last thing I remember. With so many children, I should know by now that placating is only a quick-fix for whining, if IT can be called a fix at all. I woke up two hours later…we’re talking LATE —11:00, to be exact. Just long enough to dispose of the coffee that had gone straight through me, and then I was back to DREAMING of completing all my tasks at hand… or was I dreaming about the rendezvous at the Holiday Inn Express?…. I forget.

Anyway, here’s my point. I knew that having four kids would catch up to me eventually. And I’ve known for awhile now that I ain’t gettin’ any younger. But 8:30?? I’m sorry, but that is just TOO early to be dozing… into a cup of STRONG coffee. Especially when there is a character by the name of Pennywise to acquaint myself with. And chapters to be revised. And, yes, I know, I’m whining again.

So if there’s anyone out there who knows how to recapture one’s youth long enough to get through a revising project and Stephen King’s IT, please let me know. My publisher would be most grateful. And so would that ex-sailor I’m married to, ‘cause if ya think I’m whining here, you should just hear me in person. “Quit blog-whining and just write already!” he’d say. And he’s absolutely right. So I’ll be in touch, friends! And just so you don’t think I’m a TOTAL degenerate, let me just add that I haven’t double parked in a good three weeks.