I love my family. I love my youngest son so very much. That is why I force myself to get up at an ungodly hour every morning to write. First, because I don’t want to steal time from them. Second, because I become a curmudgeon whenever I’m interrupted.
It isn’t fair when they decide to wake up at 5 AM too.
My youngest did just that this morning. He says he can’t sleep anymore. I had to stop writing to make him breakfast. I had to stop writing to put Dora, which is playing in the background now, on the “big TV”. I had to stop writing to tuck him in on the couch with a blanket.
I’m not angry with him. He’s just five. But I am in a sour mood, oh great Void. And now that’s off my chest, I can go write.
— david j.