Time Squashed Monologue



Nearly time to get in the car and go. Not enough time to get everything done before that, but that is how it is. A small adventure of family awaits; time to stop writing! Pack a notebook and a pen, scribble in a corner, a writer is an addict of sorts, but if you neglect life, what to write about, eh, idiot? Step away from the keyboard, come back when you have reportage! Outside the rain is blown past the window, I imagine the droplets as looking surprised, being swept at gale speeds. We are going for a barbeque… What to pack, other than a notebook and pen? I don’t know what else, proof that I need to leave the house and try talking to people before I forget how. Do I not love my family? Of course, everyone loves my family, they are delightful, funny, generous, amazing people. So why still typing? Okay okay, I’m nearly done here! Barbeque in a storm; it will be fun, I know, it will be wet dogs trying to steal sausages and accidents with ketchup. Time’s up! 


Comments

Anonymous said…
Are you in a hurricane?
The Cranky said…
At least the rain will wash away any ketchup mishaps on the dogs?
Suze said…
'a writer is an addict of sorts, but if you neglect life, what to write about, eh, idiot?'

:) :)
Lynn Proctor said…
haha you sound like what my husband accuses of me each day when he returns home to find me at the keys--it's kinda like that old "lassie" book where lassie does innumerable rescues but when her master returns home he finds her in the same sleeping position he left her :)
Lisa Southard said…
No hurricane here, merely sped up rain in a swift wind. Rain that faded out, so the dogs were merely damp, the ketchup remarkably well behaved. Lynn and Suze, I believe you recognise the art life balance dilemma! :-)

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