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Just Write, Re-entry

August 5, 2014

Whatcha dimbat hougminoimgmmm.



(Clears throat, stretches fingers, preparing to try again.)



So here I sit, diet coke to my left, the wrapper from my Sausage McMuffin with Egg and Cheese to my right. Blinking computer screen to my front. Since I’ve already written about 100 letters, I stretch. Roll my neck. Crack my knuckles.


The cursor blinks. Bblinksblinksblinks. Blinkity Blink. I actually think it’s taunting me. Damn cursor! Nanny nanny boo boo What you write is doo doo. You know what? You’re an ass, cursor.

Can you believe the audacity of this thing? Just blinking and waiting and daring me to write. Really. And then this blank page is just standing by, watching the cursor push me about and does nothing. Nothing!!


Wait!! I know. I’ll go back to my notebook of awesome ideas. Hang on. I’ll be right back.


Ok, I’m back. Hmmmm. Somehow those notebook ideas are less shiny now. Well, any way, how about this one?

My life sits amidst these mundane, rote tasks. The dishwasher. The laundry. My minutes are spent in the folds of each slightly faded tshirt, the pairing of each sock to its mate. Each gesture connecting me to them, threads of everyday woven into their clothes and our lives. 

Hmmm. Or:

Bricks land on ancient face

Silouhetted in pale eastern light

Small belying strength: stoisism

at the mountain’s foot/

carrying centuries


Feet on the ground

Ground meet the feet

Coffee brews cream swirls

TV voices low and murmur

Unrest Murder Genocide Elections

while I split open the english muffin

and push the the toast button

Ambling down my vanilla path

Do I contribute to this larger unrest


by muting those talking heads do I abstain

put my energy elsewhere, into this life,

with the butter

the muffin

the coffee

and the dishes in the sink

and the raising of one girl and one boy?


The cursor still blinks. And I just stretched again because really, this has been quite arduous. But I did it. I showed up.


Take that, cursor.


Note: No, I’m not high. I’m just practicing this fine art of Writing Again and I’ve been wanting to write a super poignant, Really Great Blog Post and it’s just not coming so instead of not writing anything, again, I’m writing something. I’m practicing. Kinda like instead of a throwing a full blown dinner party, just having people over for an after dinner drink in sweat pants, and just wiping down the bathroom counter and maybe lighting a candle instead of going bonkers and preparing like crazy.

Joining up with the lovely Heather’s Just Write. Because I just did.

9 Comments leave one →
  1. christagal permalink
    August 5, 2014 8:32 am

    I absolutely love this. Yes to showing up! And love to you…


  2. August 5, 2014 11:15 am

    Ah, yes. The notebook ideas that seemed so sparkly when written down but lose their luster. All too familiar:).

  3. August 5, 2014 4:10 pm

    In the finest tradition of Natalie Goldberg’s admonition to “Keep your hand moving” – it takes both practice and courage – to get what we want out there. Way to go!

  4. istralouise permalink
    August 6, 2014 6:21 am

    I’ve loved your posts since the first time I stumbled across them, and believe it or not..this was not a disappointment.. I loved your poetry and your descriptive prose.. I suppose it helps that I don’t believe menial tasks or housework to be too mundane to write about.

  5. Katherine Richard permalink
    August 6, 2014 8:36 am

    I love this, D! Showing up is usually the biggest part of the battle.

    Well done, my friend!

    Any more luck with the phen and the book?

    Kate Richard

  6. August 6, 2014 12:59 pm

    Glad to see your words, Denise. Keep writing. xoxo

  7. August 7, 2014 10:20 pm

    So happy to see your words here! xoxo

  8. August 25, 2014 2:27 pm

    Love you, here or there. Just anywhere.

  9. October 2, 2014 6:31 pm

    I love this line best, “The cursor still blinks.” It felt like it was winking just at me like we shared a private knowing. Because we did. Thanks for this.

Give me your grit.

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