Carolyn Creative

Yesterday, I was a gunner.  Ain’t nothin’ that could break my stride.  I unpacked our new, beautiful pots and recycled the boxes.  I embarked on a massive kitchen redesign and dropped off an old kitchen things to Goodwill.  I returned extra place settings to Macy’s and bought two trays and four tea strainers at Crate and Barrel.  I bought two weeks worth of groceries at Trader Joe’s with Kevin’s credit card per our New Food Plan.  I mindfully placed our china in squishy containers, which reminded me of the scary part of ET when the men come in white suits.  I taught a backbend oriented yoga class and made a grilled chicken salad with craisins and flavored walnuts.

Today?  Not so much.  It’s cold!  The weather plunged dropped a solid thirty degrees.  When Phoebe and I walked to the ATM, the UNCC band played tubas at the intersection of Trade and Tryon; cheerleaders on the other side of the street were freezing their bloomers off.  Both Phoebe and returned to the apartment with the windblown look — it looked cuter on her.  This frigid turn of events is a sign from the universe; I should spend the day inside, swaddled in blankets, with laptop and tea.

Which leads me to my semi-point.  Only four days remain until November 1st!  The beginning of National Novel Writing Month.  This is my first year attempting the challenge; I have also peer pressured my mother and dear friend Kaaren to join me.  I’m excited and a little nervous.  I’m also kind of wondering, what happens on days like this?  When it seems like a hero’s challenge to button my coat.  Is it like teaching yoga, where some days I’m brimming with ideas and other days, I stumble over my words?  Can I develop a ritual or rhythm to work on my writing on days where I feel more gelatinous than inspired?  We shall see … I’m hoping to learn a lot.