It's been a good-busy hectic week... It's not over yet and what I'd give to sleep in.
Friday I wondered how I managed to get the million things I needed to get done and to get to the million places I needed to be and then thrived on the sense of accomplishment when I came out on top of what seemed would be an impossible day.
That's the thing I like about writing and deadlines. The procrastination, the working under pressure and the feeling of cutting and pasting my piece into an email and hitting 'Send'. Bam. Done. Next.
I've been away from my boys for a few nights and we met at a restaurant in separate vehicles to have dinner tonight and I felt like a divorced wife without custody of my child and this was my once-a-week visit. My heart aches for the hearts of the parents in that circumstance.
I am sincerely grateful for my amazing "single-dad" husband who broke the lid off the kitchen garbage can this morning because Ryker was whining, the dogs were driving him "fucking" crazy, the house is a disaster and he was trying to put something in the garbage and it was overflowing.
I've been away sharing a bed with someone else. A Weimaraner. My first full-time dog walk when I started Pet Love five years ago and who is moving to a different province next month. I can't access the Internet from there and had to hit a coffee shop late Thursday night when I wasn't able to alleviate the panic I felt in fear of the world unravelling because I couldn't access my email.
I love the atmosphere in a coffee shop. Love it. I live in a small town and here's another thing I love about the city aside from a variety of skin colour and amazing playgrounds. Coffee shops give me inspiration and an other-worldly sensation. Great Indy tunes, lounge chairs and little round tables scattered with magazines and today's newspaper create the perfect atmosphere to dive head-first into the written word with a hot cup of something topped with whipped cream and chocolate. I look up in deep thought and gaze over again at the guy in the corner and wonder if it would be considered hitting on him if I went over to see what he was sketching, curious about his creation and why he's here on a Saturday night.
You know what, I'd love to work here I think. A place where you'd know everyone's name and their drink, sandwich or sweet treat of choice, get to listen live musicians set up in the corner with just enough space for a stool, mic and keyboard and have an in with all things city-life creative.
Now is not the time for a career move. Not after an oober (where the hell did I just pick that word up from?) successful day promoting my pet care business at a dog fair in support of the humane society.
Why would I write for work when I can write for this? I still have a day 'til deadline.
I can see the bottom of my something sweet with whipped cream and chocolate and the Weim awaits.
Out.
3.23.13
No comments:
Post a Comment