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Saturday, August 23, 2014

The Muse Who Wore Pajama Pants






It was all too easy, a simply smooth and slyly subtle slide into a veritable vat of comfortable decadence where I roll out of bed, stumble to the coffee pot and plop in front of the keyboard, certain that the words will flow as plenteous as the scraggly weeds wickedly waving among the flowers outside my window.

But they don’t because my muse has not checked in—for days. 

My hand tightens around my favorite coffee mug and the fingers of my free hand begin to drum a frustrated beat as I helplessly glare at the blank page. Enough! 

I testily jab the power button and stalk from the office, careful to close the office door lest my elusive muse spring from hiding and attempt to escape.

After a shower and a quick dip in the ‘bag of tricks’, aka my makeup bag, I am out the door to complete a few errands I’d been putting off while wallowing in unproductive writing mode. I take the long way, through the back roads that wind through and around the canyon in all its blooming majesty.  It’s a gorgeous late summer morning with only a hint of the heat sure to come and I leave the window down so that the breeze might caress my face and tussle my well-sprayed hair.

Coveys of quail abound as families traipse to or from meals, and a coyote crosses my path carrying freshly caught food for her young in her mouth. Though hills are steep and curves are many, walkers are not deterred and I slow to give a friendly wave as I pass a woman gathering wildflowers. I’m stunned to recognize my muse as she tugs her sunhat low, ignoring my gesture. I am humbled to realize she’s wearing my pajama pants. So, it’s like that, is it?

I purposely extend my errands to include lunch with a friend, whose company requires at least one giggle-fest per hour as we share our hometown girl memories. Once at home, I tackle those weeds before I venture ever-so-tentatively back to the office and what do ya know? There sits my muse, all dressed up and tapping her foot impatiently as if she’s waited all day for my return!

Note to self, on writing: It’s a business, treat it as such.                    

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