Some days  

Some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed. That was yesterday.  Every time I started to write my mind didn’t want to cooperate with my fingers and about the time I got them in sync my eyes wanted to go to sleep.  

But, I was bound and determined that I was going to win this battle.  Wasn’t I the one that was supposed to be in control here? So I got up and did a sink full of dishes, ran the vacuum cleaner, swept the kitchen floor, and did a load of laundry.

 You would have thought that I should have been wide awake, no such luck.  The moment I sat back down and put fingertips to keys, my eyes began to droop.  So back up I got. I went outside and filled the wood bin for the evening. I like these warmer nights, as I don’t have to burn so much wood and the house stays warmer.  Anyway, I’m getting off track here. I came back inside and saw that I had an hour before dinner. Surely, I could get some writing done. 

 I have been frantically polishing the first twenty pages of my murder mystery for a contest that closes on June 1^st. I got about a paragraph done before that sleepy feeling closed over my brain. Maybe a turkey burger, baked sweet potato, and a salad will give me some energy to write a few pages this time. 

Dishes done and a glass of iced tea by my side, I sat down to write. What happened? I sat there staring at the computer screen and nothing came. I was wide awake, but that tired feeling was there, lurking in the background waiting to pounce. How much tryptophan is in a turkey burger anyway? (I have to blame something, besides tryptophan is used to being the scapegoat. Because, it could not be that I'm just having a lazy day and don't want to do any writing. Could it?)  

I decided that I’d just give in and go to sleep. I guess some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed.

                                                                                                                                                    Chris Stamp