Night Rambling

Night. It truly can be the loneliest time. Perhaps it’s because things are so quiet or maybe it’s because your body knows that it’s supposed to be sleeping and your mind (and in my case my kicking child) won’t let it. It’s not even that late, but I feel exhausted. I’m sure if I completed an exercise routine I’d feel better and would actually be able to lie down and sleep. Of course I don’t feel up to it–moving around? Pah.  I’d rather sit here and type and be moody.

I’ve been scanning the news for hours everything from crap to more crap. Ok, some things were relevant and other things…well, I can’t believe I read them but I did. Every word. Do I have anything sarcastic to say about the articles that I’ve wasted hours of my life reading? I did; I had a reel running through my head, but now in my zombified state I can’t think of anything worth mentioning. And the joke is on me, I read the articles. Even now I’ve tons of thoughts just spinning around and my fingers seem to be picking what gets typed and what doesn’t. Funny to think of my fingers as mini editors or is that just down right ludicrous–probably both?

Anyway, that would be a fun writing exercise–write down words or phrases that randomly pop into your mind without editing them or thinking if they’ll fit into what you’re talking about. Just writing them. My friend and I used to do something similar when we wrote letters to each other in school. Yes, we were that bored or school was that boring. You decide. We called them word papers because they made no sense, but they were interesting to read and very random. Lovely little thing, the adolescent train of thought and goodness what a mess. Mind you, it doesn’t get any better as you get older or at least that’s my experience. I’m not even that old, only 24, but I feel old. Thank you society.

Perhaps I’ll incorporate that adolescent bitterness into my next book. I’ve been toying with the idea–actually it’s already turned out that way. Now it’s just a matter of putting all the pieces together and making it a story instead of the random ramblings of an adolescent mind. Who knows when I’ll get it done. Between work, that side job, other things I want to do, other things I have to do, life, and those seemingly rare social outings (Like how vague I’m being? It’s an art.) who knows when it’ll get done. I could use a pumpkin spiced latte right about now. Just want a I need caffeine.


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