I've had a delightful week, in a house by myself with a passel of cats for company. It's a writer's dream, really. Front porch overlooking the mountains (complete with a porch swing). Silence - an introvert's retreat. Long hours to write, or simply to think. A shelf of unread books.
But now the week is ending and I'm bordering on ridiculous behavior. Seriously, you should see the string of texts I just sent. One poor recipient told me I was "punny" (which, while seeming to compliment my wit, is probably also a code for "cool it"). I don't know if I am merely overflowing with a refreshed brain or if I'm acting out to get attention due to my severe lack of human interaction over the past seven days.
Either way, I thought the best cure would be to sit down at a keyboard. And so here I am, with a purring cat in my lap, letting the tiniest bit of steam off my proverbial engine in the form of the written word. And while I'm not sure that a public blog is the best place to share one's pre-bursting moments, here I am.
Lest any of you feel a twinge of envy for my privileged life, you should know that I was not really at a writer's retreat. I was house-sitting with a myriad of duties on my plate. And, while I did get a lot of thinking done, I didn't get much writing done. However, it really is a house with a lovely porch and mountain view, and it COULD have been a writing haven.
Also, because I'm a single girl sitting alone on a porch, I gave a tiny bit of thought to what it must be like to be married without children yet. I am privileged to live with family. There's almost always someone around. But what if I were married and my husband at work? It would be kind of like this, wouldn't it?
Ah, there goes my alarm clock. Alas, I must leave you and rush off to attend to one of my duties. Farewell, friends!