Scattered

As usual, I was roused from my slumber by a demanding Basset. But, as I looked at the clock, I was pleasantly surprised that she allowed me to sleep a little longer than normal. It gave me a sense of determination believing that it was time to get up and seize the day. Whatever day it might be, anyway. Once I did my Daisy “chores” and she went back to bed, I got dressed and made myself a cup of liquid gold. I noticed that the time on the coffee maker was wrong. So was the microwave and the oven. They were all the same time which I thought was weird. Then reality hit and I came to the conclusion that my eyes deceived me. Assholes. It wasn’t 6 A.M. when the diva woke me up. Nope, it was 5. I am not sure why an hour makes such a difference, yet here we are. I am left wondering why I am dressed and ready for Groundhog Day.

With that being said, I have two thoughts that have taken up residency in my head AKA the bad neighborhood. First, why are people driving around in their cars, by themselves I might add, wearing a mask. Is your breath really that fresh? Are you concerned that your car is a potential COVID-19 carrier? Do they know it is really just for when they are in public? I am just inquiring. Maybe it is simply a cover for them to be able to sing in their cars without people looking at them strangely. Humans are odd.

My second thought is that I do my best writing in my sleep apparently. Yesterday, I was searching for a chapter that I could have sworn I wrote. I am polishing up my manuscript to send to my editor, again. It is a tedious process. So, I searched for it and then realized that I hadn’t actually written it. It was still living in my head. It was like my book was trying to gaslight me. I wrote it, again, but it probably isn’t as good as it was in my dreams. I swear this captivity shit is messing with my brain.

Anyway, it is probably a good thing I am up and ready to seize the day. Who am I kidding? The only thing I will be seizing is a nap.

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