Stuff Gets in the Way

It was a heavy night of dreams. One was remembered with strength and clarity. I wrote it all up but then decided against posting it.

Then, had imaging appointments this morning. One turned into two because the place where they sent me didn’t have the necessary special equipment needed for my imaging. That required me to go to a hospital in another city, where they had the right gear. The first imaging department told me that they’d spoken to the second, and the second wanted me to go right over. I did. Arriving there, they asked me why I was there two hours early.

Umm, whaattt?

I was told they’d see me when they could but I might need to wait. Rushing out of the house, I’d forgotten the book I was reading so I had nothing to do while waiting, except, gasp, stream music to myself, watch people, and think. Grrr.

Here’s a humorous little sidebar to that. I forgot the book because my phone rang as I went to get the book just before leaving the house. Diverted to the phone, I checked the number and didn’t recognize. Well, I was already close to being late and wasn’t going to answer the phone for a caller that wasn’t identified. As I left, I thought, what if it’s imaging, calling to tell me there’s a problem and my appointment has been cancelled, ha, ha.

I was really surprised when that turned out to be the case. Imaging told me that they’d called calling me to stop me from coming in, etc.

By the time I sat to wait in the proper location, a rant was forming. I didn’t feel up to a rant, but I’m letting some of it leak out now.  Just as I’d sat and contemplated the rant, my name was called. The imaging director came out to apologize to me, take me back and get my procedure done, so yea. 

That pleased me but then the staff started asking me, what are we doing to you? My intelligent response was, “Ummm.” Next the doctor shows and asked me, “Do you know why we’re doing this?”

I gave him an explanation of my understanding. He nodded. “Okay, that makes sense.”

It was all done twenty minutes later.

Then I was here to write. I had an excellent writing day yesterday. I’d ended on a cliffhanger the previous day. I had no idea where it was supposed to go. But when I ordered my coffee and sat down to write, I knew what to write, and did it. The process illuminated more of the novel’s concept and story, surprising me. I always credit the muses for my creative process’ tortuosity, but I know it’s all my brain. Whether it’s muses or my brain, the process, which is apparently transparent to me, remains a source of surprise and delight.

Got my coffee. Know what time it is? Yep, time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

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