Thursday, March 25, 2010
I've talked about how writers feel the need to write. Well, so far today that writing feeling has been shot. And its all due to my kryptonite as a writer: pain. Headaches I can ignore. I'll pop some pills and walk away for a bit. But pain slows down the mojo big time.
Case in point, last night I burned my wrist taking the dinner out of the oven. The chicken was perfectly cooked, just like my wrist when the cover fell off and the steam blasted me. At that point, I had to write one-handed... (Couldn't lean the wrist against the keyboard.) To add to the streak of bad luck, later that evening my stomach bothered me. There went writing period.
By morning, all my bad luck should either go away or get worse. That's when I banged my kneecap on my van door. The pain sucked. It hurt enough to have me laughing and wanting to hurl at the same time which is never good...
So here I am with my leg throbbing and an uncomfortable wrist wishing my distracted brain could ignore the pain and write. I do have options to avoid typing since I can dictate the words, but what good does that do when my leg feels like I tried to knee a dude with steel balls? Since the Muse is waiting beside me tapping her impatient foot I plan to do what I can, even if I'm weakened today.