Waiting for the Muse

I have nothing to say. Some days I'm not sure I'm actually even thinking, which of course is necessary to having something to say; at least it should. Yes, there is brain activity but it appears to be going something like this:

what time is it? did i pay the phone bill? ow, wish i'd quit hitting my knee on the corner of my desk. desk sure is messy. where did i put that report i was working on? when is that due? better look at my calendar. need to send an email to newspaper about login problem. did i remember to turn the humidifier off when i left this morning? oh yeah, was going to look at my calendar. oops, forgot to tally that last ref question that came to the desk. out of tally sheets. need to request more tally sheets. is it lunch yet? oh yeah, the calendar. phone ringing. hate phone. i can smell someone else's lunch. smells good. need to eat mine. better check calendar before i forget ...

OK, so this is not really thinking. This is a tornado. This is brain synapses firing all over the place. And I never did get around to checking the calendar.

If only this brain storm would quit. If only it would get quiet in there. If only my fairy godmother of writing would pay me a visit and wave her magic wand over my messy gray matter. But my muse appears to be on an extended vacation ...

... so I will hurl my jumbled thoughts toward my keyboard; and I will click the Publish button; and I will carry on.