What If You’re Sick?

When you do the morning pages you do them every day. If you don’t do them in the morning, then do them sometime before you lay your head down on the pillow at the end of your day. And, when you are sick – do them anyway.

Right now I’m missing my niece’s birthday party and I hope she and the rest of her friends and family are having fun. Or maybe they haven’t quite started yet. It’s just a little after 5.

Not only am I sick, but I’m really tired. So I’m moving a little slower right now. When I pause as I write this, the pauses are longer than usual. So I better keep writing and not get lost in a pause.

It’s pretty amazing to be in my family and to be my age (49) right now. It’s almost unbelievable that my niece should be in her thirties and have a son who is in double digits. I’ve been a great uncle since I was 38. This kind of thing happens when your older brother has a child.

I remember that my girlfriend in 4th grade (what does that even mean at that age?) had an uncle who was my brother’s age. She was in my grade and her uncle was in my brother’s grade. He was 5 years older than his niece. Seems pretty wild when you’re a kid.

Boy, am I tired.

For those of you just joining us, this writing is an exercise. You write what comes out until you’ve written the required amount. No matter what comes out. Some people have suggested that the three pages recommended by Julia Cameron equals 750 words. Is that true? My range has been around 750 words to around 1700, I think. I am also trying to be a little encouraging and a little instructional to those who might like to try this.

Do it. Really. All you have to do is not judge yourself. Then you are free to write. I promise that if you start out writing blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and blah that that will eventually change. I suggest writing in your native language. It might be fun for me to try this in Spanish sometime, but not today or this week or this month.

Heck, I might continue doing morning pages every day for as long as I can to see what happens. I soon (tomorrow) will start writing much more every day and ultimately I want to get to writing at least five hours every day. I’m sure I can turn out some books at that rate. I’ve got to be better than infinite monkeys on infinite typewriters, don’t I? At least there will be less gobbledy-gook (Is gobbledy gook hyphenated?) to wade through. Presumably.

I just have to keep going today before I fall asleep. It’s only approaching 5:30 and I am ready for bed. I must be sick.

Reminds me of something funny, but I’m tired enough that that thought left my head.

Does that happen to you? I’ve been amazed how much that has happened to me in the last five years or so.

I go into a room and forget why I went there.

Not always. And I wonder how much of it is programming our unconscious by saying that we do that. Better to observe and not pass judgement. Or do the opposite of what my dad used to say when I was growing up.

When we forgot what we wanted to say, my dad would say, “Well, it must not have been very important.” Not extremely negative, but kinda sorta negative.

I’ve learned to replace that with, “It will come to me.”

You know what? It often does. Not every time, but mostly.

Just discovered some cookies at Trader Joe’s made with cherries and oats. Good stuff.

Since I had gout almost two years ago I have been paying attention to some things that most people aren’t necessarily in the habit of thinking about.

I know cherries are good for me as well as sweet potatoes. I look at that word just to make sure ever since Dan Quayle. Oh, right. It’s the plural.

I avoid spinach. I used to love spinach in my salad. Who knew that it had these things called purines in it that contribute to gout.

Meat I have to watch and I’ve even learned to go vegetarian a few days ever month and recently a little more every month.

As long as you are putting good stuff into your body, you won’t miss it much. And I do feel better. Just not so much right now. Today.

Marianne was sick a couple days ago, so maybe this is that.

She’s my wife. My honey. Honeybunny.

Do you have little pet names for your spouse or significant other?

When she was pregnant I called her Booper. And our son was Little Boop before he was born.

I don’t know if he even knows that. I know she remembers.


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