i was supposed to write this last night, but i didn't.
i was laying awake, mind racing.
my train of thought was this: I should write. No, i have work in the morning, I should sleep. But i feel like writing, and i'm not sleeping, and i don't think i can sleep much tonight. but i don't want to be a zombie tomorrow, so i should really do a bit of self-hypnosis and fall asleep.
and then i thought: i can't control when inspiration hits me. it's hitting me right now, and i'm not doing anything about it. i know i should write, i feel like writing, and i'm throwing that away because of a customer service job i don't care about, although it pays very well.
i don't get to decide when i get to channel creativity any more than someone posessed decides whether or not to let the devil spin their head around.
and why not be the writer stereotype and stagger into work, bleary- and bag-eyed, but content in having written some nice rant down in the wee hours of the morning?
boring story aside, i didn't pick up my laptop because i thought "well it's enough for me to have these thoughts and let them affect me for the future." which is half true, half bullshit, and half non-productive.
BUT, i did end up talking on the phone to a dear friend of mine from about 1:30 or so until past 6 in the morning. So i didn't sleep anyway.
and i did just write this down, which although not as good as having written it last night, is still proving to myself that writing is important to me.
this morning, my mind is still sharp.
on another note, sometimes my hair looks like a toupee.
i don't think that's very fair.
unless i end up needing a toupee, because then no one will notice.
