On schedule, my phone began beeping at 8 this morning. “Blog post due.” I groan and do a mental check. I groan again. Not one gear jerks into motion. Not one synapse fires. English runs up the white flag and throws up its hands in surrender. Language-less and feeling empty-headed, I begin my day by dragging a circuit around my house.
Inspiration does not leap out at me and declare a blog topic. In a listless haze I go about my daily routine and still here at 6:35 pm, I don’t have a miraculous blog topic. Out of sheer guilt, I brush the dust off my laptop and plop down on the couch. Still no inspiration. My head feels fuzzy and a nap sounds about as complicated as I want to get but because of that darn phone, I boot up Windows.
One thought breaks free and claws to the surface of the tar that is my brain function. Oh, for the love of turkey! That’s it. These last few days have been a turkey fest. At 6:15 I finished a meal of leftover turkey, dressing and cranberry sauce. Which makes the 5th meal of turkey since Thanksgiving. I have quite literally overdosed on turkey. Those birds are so stupid they drown in a rainstorm if they look up and open their beaks. My life is in danger if it rains. Hence, I am done with turkey. For at least a year. Thanksgiving ham just doesn’t have the same ring.
But, good news, tomorrow I will wake up and the last of the turkey haze will have cleared. I will not groan if my phone declares “Blog post due”. (It won’t because I am smart enough to have programmed it for the fourth Monday of every month ahead of time) I am in turkey rehab and I am feeling smarter already. Look out novel, here I come.
Just to be certain I am in no immediate danger, I check the forecast. No rain is due for the next week. Whew! Crisis averted.
Eat moor chickin!
Susan
Paddle Creek Writers 