Preface: I am about to sound stupid. OKAY SO -- There is this bird that is driving me bonkers. It's somewhere in the backyard and every morning, without fail, it squawks for a good couple of hours. And it is constant. There is no pause. It is just "squawk! squawk! squawk!" And look, I know that nature sounds are therapeutic and kinda my current "thing." I listen to humpback whales on compact disc, for hell's sake! But this bird is so terribly distracting that I had to close the window and put in earplugs. I think I may have even told the bird to "get a life." Okay, I didn't tell the bird that, but I got close.
I feel like I can't write with earplugs in. Like it is suffocating my brain or something. My brain can't breathe, thus it can't think, thus it can't write. But maybe that has been my problem all along -- I think too much and it gets in the way of my writing. Drop the thoughts and the words will come. Build a baseball field of non-thoughts and the ghost of Shoeless Joe Jackson will bless you with endless material for short stories and one-act plays and movie scripts made for Kevin Costner.
Okay, I took out one of my earplugs to see if the sadistic bird was still doin' his thing. I assume the bird is male because males are great at annoying the crap out of me. Kidddddding but not really. Having only one earplug in is an odd sensation. It makes my head feel uneven. But at least my brain can take a few breaths. What if I had the world "BREATHE" tattooed on my knuckles? Just on one hand. That would mean I'd have to have two extra fingers or be a complete idiot when it comes to spelling.
I didn't mean to write all about birds and brains and the brains of birds and knuckle tattoos this morning. Then again, I didn't mean to write at all. I meant to make breakfast. I meant to make coffee! It's probably best I didn't make coffee, but it's a shame I haven't made breakfast yet. I will, though. I will make it with a bit of fear in my heart, which is the norm. Everything is just the norm, day in and day out. Wake up, walk outside, get annoyed at neighbors (WORKING ON DEVELOPING COMPASSION, I SWEAR), get annoyed at bird, get annoyed at brain, get annoyed at inability to write, get annoyed at the necessity of and desire for breakfast, get annoyed that I get annoyed, get annoyed that I get annoyed at getting annoyed, noy, noy, noy.
I just took out the other earplug. Now my head is balanced, but my emotions are still out of whack. Maybe a slice of dry toast will straighten things out. Maybe I should add more to the toast while I subtract some annoyances. Maybe I should just taste the toast and the emotions and see what I think. Pay attention for once. I might be surprised.