Angsty 30-something

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.

Growl.

— david j.

 

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