Writing

I can't stand the fact I haven't written anything lately. It's like being an addict without the fix. I don't even think it's that I have this burning scene/dialogue/narrative to get down. I filled in the big gaping hole Tues. morning when Munchkin was in school. It's more like I need to breathe. I need to work. I need to feel like I've accomplished something for the day. Yeah, I can clean my house from top to bottom, do all the laundry, dishes, cook and whatever else needs to be done. But at the end of the day it's still the same old crap I've done before. No matter how many times I do it, it'll still be there tomorrow.

Writing is different. No matter how many times I write during the day, week, month, year, it's different. It's fresh, new, sometimes crap, often times brilliant LOL, it's not the same pair of Levi's I've been wearing for the last 15 years, it's not the same dishes I've been eating off, the same vaccuum cleaner with the stuck handle.
Writing is words, nuances, attitudes, descriptions, passages of dialogue, people, places, things, that take me away from my ordinary existance. It's an escape from the ordinary mundane world of dishes and laundry and cooking.

Best of all, and I think what I'm trying to say, is, it's mine. It's my world, my characters, my setting, my dialogue, my creativity. Definitely not the same as my dishes, my clothes, my dust bunnies. Like the old Calgon commercial, writing takes me away from my boring predictable life. It's a drug. It's an addiction. It gives me a high for so many hours, minutes a day. And if I don't have it, I get cranky, crazy, uptight. Does anyone else feel this way? Am I the only one? I think not. I think with all writers we have this thing inside us trying to get out. This monster that we breath, eat, sleep, can't get out of our heads that follows us, lives in us, sometimes even breaks us.

I wonder if Hemmingway ever felt this way.