C’mon…you know you wanna
Sometimes I have a love-hate relationship with this blogging screen. I always hope that by the time I hit the “publish” button I will have settled all my internal conflicts and it will just be love, and that’s the case most of the time.
It usually goes something like this:
Screen: Talk to me.
Sparky: I do not want to talk to you.
Screen: C’mon…talk to me.
Sparky: I SAID…I do NOT want to talk to you.
Screen: Say something funny.
Sparky: I’m too tired.
Screen: Say something profound.
Sparky: You have got to be joking. Profound? I can’t think about anything other than the popcorn kernel I’ve got stuck in my gum.
Screen: I’ll just wait here while you think, then.
Sparky: I’m not talking to you.
Sparky: I’m still not talking to you.
Sparky: OH MY GOSH. Stop it already!
Screen: I will outlast you, you know. Why not just say a little something?
Sparky: You really are annoying.
Screen: I am whatever you want me to be. You can make me great.
Sparky: Now you’re just pissing me off.
Screen: Whatever it takes.
This basic conversation happens multiple times every week. The screen doesn’t care why I’m not writing. It only cares that it eventually be filled with my rambling hieroglyphics.
Some days it’s hard to see the remarkable, let alone report on it. And once I do see it, it’s like gilding a dust bunny. I mean, seriously…why?
The physical terrorist took out his frustrations on the scar tissue in my knee this morning.
Jake the Jerk-Faced Dog smells bad.
It was chilly at the ball field this evening.
I washed the dishes.
I’m shopping for a nano aquarium for my betta.
I can’t stop yawning and every time I yawn, my eyes water.
Exciting stuff, eh? It’s the stuff of life.
I guess even the mundane hopes for a makeover and reframing.