I woke up at 6 am this morning, by my current standards, sleeping in. My first thought was, “I’m gonna be late.” Late to what?
It is, after all, Thanksgiving morning. Every place I might think to go and write for a few hours is closed today. I am a creature of habit. Even to this relatively new habit that drives me now.
I can write here at home, and I will try to later. But it isn’t the same as getting out.
Even now my personal work ethic won’t let me rest. Hmm. I have noticed that this same work ethic doesn’t ensure I clean the house as often as I should. I am “good” in my aloneness. But I still want to be included in something. Even if it is just being a part-time writer and greeter for the morning regulars at a cafe downtown
Memory is the Key 