I can't believe October 2010 has passed and I'm wondering where that month went. These months go by so fast, too darn fast for my liking. I was no sooner celebrating the Fourth of July when I find myself this past weekend removing make up after attending a Halloween dance and voila now we're into November 2010.
Now I'm having to think about Thanksgiving, and the rest of the holidays that follow, plus start to worry about the cold weather, and the elements of sleet, snow, and ice that come along with at this time of year.
I've found by taking it one day at a time is probably going to be the best route to take.
Last night I enjoyed a great meal of Baramundie fish, steamed veggies and a nice glass of wine. Well there were two glasses except the first one found its way on to my hardwood living room floor, the glass breaking into a thousand pieces. For me it was almost a forewarning of things to come. Not sure what that's going to be but sooner or later I'm sure I'll find out. Back problems, an unfocused mind, plus other distractions has prevented me from focusing where I should and want to focus, namely my stories.
I have this thing about premonitions. I used to freak out relatives back when I was younger, experiencing dreams or so-called visions stemming form simple thoughts inside my mind that were more or less right on the money.
Sometimes they were good, sometimes there were not so good thoughts.
I picked up the pieces of glass last night and thought this is pretty much what we all find ourselves doing at one time or another, which is picking up the pieces of our lives when at times we don't see too clearly where exactly that life is headed or perhaps more so where we might want that life to go. It's always a good thing to have a plan, except even with plans in place, things go awry.
One things I've learned over the years especially the past eight years is never to hold high expectations about most things because it prevents experiencing those disappointments when life can suddenly take a different course.
Still, predictability, especially after a certain age is not so bad in the whole scheme of things.
Predictability, or the certainty of knowing things are okay allows me to focus back on the creative process. Unpredictability in life distracts me to the point that my mind can't wrap itself around any of my latest projects.
And lately my writing life has left the tracks so to speak. Plus I haven't been as disciplined in getting my stories written, stuck somewhere inside my head waiting for their release.
There's always one other more thing to do; cook meals, clean up, walk the dog, attend a dance, spend time with family and friends, make another chiropractor session, etc., etc. Things that all writers are faced with when making that decision to simply sit in front of a computer and write.
One of the plusses of winter I guess is the weather will keep me indoors more than outdoors. I don't do well in the cold. Except for bundling up once a day to take my dog for her walk, I will hopefully find myself sitting here at my computer cranking out the necessary words and pages that eventually comprises my next story.
Meantime, I'm going to go get another Snicker bar from the plastic pumpkin sitting on my dining room table.