Of Muses and Other Fleeting Things by Konnie Enos

 

I had, after much musing on what I might write for this post, sat down at my computer and started typing. I did not finish.

Why?

Because my husband came in and insisted I immediately leave my computer and assist him with an issue. I attempted to find out what exactly he wanted me to do that required me to leave my computer.

He was somewhat clear in what he wanted but that didn’t really answer the question because I could not see how my going to the front room was going to affect the matter. I reluctantly went to the front room.

I’m pretty sure my husband was expecting my presence to result in the outcome he wanted. I was positive I would have no effect on the outcome and it wouldn’t be what he wanted.

Twenty minutes later and the culmination was pretty much what I expected.

I then, of course, return to my computer as I do need to get my post typed up.

I glance at the page. I’ve not only typed nearly 200 words, but I’d just started typing a word when my husband interrupted. At this point, I have no idea what word I had started to type.

I read the previous sentence. It doesn’t jog my memory.

I go over everything I had typed. Not only is it not jogging my memory. I can no longer grasp the trails of the thought I was attempting to put into words. Not just the missing word, but the entire theme of the post.

I stare at it for some moments but the idea is no longer there. The disturbance has completely erased it and I’m unable to finish the page, let alone the post.

After some effort, I determine to try to relocate my idea or find a new one.

I spend hours on this endeavor. Nothing is coming to me.

My only thoughts are my frustration at being interrupted in the middle of a word.

Every time I have to leave in the middle of a word I find I can’t even remember what the word was let alone the thought I was attempting to expound on.

It generally helps to just start writing, something. Even working on another story helps. So, in desperation, and hoping to release the flow of words, I open up a new document.

I take the time to format it.

I stare at the screen.

I try to think of anything pleasant or funny or important I could write about. I try to find the threads of what I had started to post.

I am getting nowhere.

I browse some more for inspiration with none forthcoming.

Now another thing I’ve been dealing with is Thursday evening my right wrist started hurting. It’s doing better now and I can take off the splint I was given for extended periods without pain.

Guess what? Typing aggravates it. I know how to touch type so, for the most part, it isn’t in my way to have the splint on, but it limits the range of my fingers and I have to move off the home keys to hit backspace, enter, or the shift on my right side. I also can’t hit the ‘/” without moving my hand because my pinky cannot move that far in the splint. If I try to hit the number keys at the top, my wrist is resting on the alt and ctrl buttons and the spacebar.

Yes, that can mess things up.

Now, after hours of fighting this, I’m tired and nowhere near finished with my post.

It is far too late to get my sister to substitute for me. Even if I could, I have no real excuse since I am capable of typing (with some minor accommodations).

I try to think of other options and come up with only one, stream of thought.

Fun, three pages of my ramblings about whatever it is I’m thinking about, but the only thing on my mind is my broken concentration and sore wrist.

Not anything to write about.

So my original idea is scrapped for lack of concentration and my replacement is just everything fleeting across my mind as I sit here trying to figure out if I can even write coherent sentences giving that it’s now the middle of the night and I need sleep.

The plus to typing this late is my family members are either asleep or being quiet so they don’t disturb my daughter, the one who is in bed by 9:30 every night. More specifically the one who has no problem expressing her extreme displeasure at her sleep being disrupted by our lights or talking.

Have you ever had days like this? I know I have.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.