Day 170: Dear Insomnia

As soon as puberty hit, insomnia invited itself in.

Since I always loved reading and writing, I welcomed the sleepless nights with open arms.

A couple of decades later, I tend to be more on the « not again » side of the spectrum.

What can I say, mamas in their 35 to 44 years old get tired!

Now it’s time for the very much anticipated cliché: but then.

But then, last night, oh dear, oh dear, I pieced all the pieces of the current writing project together.

It did take some three hours plus many more minutes, and today, day job will be haaard. Nevertheless, it was Oh So Worth It.

The whole current writing project was… sort of… sorted out?!

Characters, timeline, worldbuilding, the why’s of this and the deep end of that.

If my pj’s came with suspenders, and if I was wearing them, I would proudly put my thumbs behind them. Maybe even give them a happy snappy pull!

Now, time for another mug of tea. Strong tea.

I hope those words find you safe and well.

May all the good words flow your way!

Day 169: I Love You at Midnight

Oh yeah, I had time to write yesterday evening. Yeah, yeah…

Took out the laptop… you know… and got cozy in bed… and all…

Only to fall asleep seconds later. And when I say fall asleep, I mean it.

Oh dear, saliva drizzling, hair everywhere, arms stuck in the weirdest position!!!

« Who cares about your bed hair, mama », you ask, dear fellow writers. « What happened to your poor laptop? »

It did gently slide on the good side of the bed – don’t know why the first scene of the Lego movie boomed in my head, you know the one where all the Legos are singing « Everything is awesome ». I felt wholeheartedly grateful for sure!

By that time, around midnight, I really just wanted to go back to sleep. Forget writing tonight, yet again. Laptop was quite hastily put aside and I got cozy once more, only in a less I-need-a-physiotherapist way.

Right in the middle of that sweet sleepy moment, you know just before Morpheus takes you in his arms… tippy toes tippy toes tippy toes.

The usual bang of the water bottle being « put » on the nightstand scared Morpheus away.

Kiddo is standing beside the bed.

« Climb in », I say in a hush, sleepy voice.

« I love you mommy » says kiddo before climbing on me, one knee pressing on my belly. Kiddo slides on the good side of the bed.

I love you at midnight. It is worth every written word in the world.

Day 165: Where Are The Stories?

1 am

Kiddo climbs into our bed. A pillow awaits that beautiful head. It’s a routine.

I can’t fall back asleep. Day job stuff is going around and around in my head.

Every time I try to tell myself a story in the vain hope of falling back asleep, day job stuff crashes in.

And I just had it.

Enough with this non-sense. It’s a job that was supposed to allow me time to write. Not the very opposite!

Where are the stories? Where is my family life? Heck, where is my little, small but beautiful life?

Time to take the leap.

For once, I know exactly where I’ll land.

In a story.

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