It’s hard to inspire anyone else to write when you don’t feel inspired yourself. Today’s the kind of day that makes that “learning to love November” thing a little harder. Frankly, November so far hasn’t been so great. Mom’s still not feeling well and hacking her head off. She agreed we’d go back and see the doctor tomorrow, although neither of us is sure what he can do for her. She can’t take codeine, and she’s tried every over-the-counter and natural remedy available. I just hope she doesn’t have pneumonia.
Rusty the dog is still limping and every so often yipes even when no one has bumped him. He doesn’t look as bad as he did the day I took him to the vet, but I wonder if he’s ever going to be back to his old self. At 12-1/2 years, his old self had its limitations, but at least he seemed contented. Now we’ve had to block him from so much that he likes: long walks, going out in the backyard on his own (the back steps are too steep for him right now), sleeping in bed with me (although we’re doing fine on the futon in the front room), and coming down to the basement to lie on the extra bed and sleep while I do my late-night work on the computer. He goes back to the vet on Thursday; guess we’ll see what happens next.
Last evening around 9:30 I started getting a bad cramping in my lower back into my hips. I was wary what it might be, and by midnight I thought I knew: I was passing another kidney stone. I didn’t get any late-night work done because I couldn’t concentrate (and Rusty woke up and missed me, so I closed up and went back upstairs before he woke Mom with his whining). It was a blessing that I was miserable for only about an hour and a half. At one point it was too painful to lie down, then ten minutes later suddenly I could lie comfortably. Maybe the three ibuprofen kicked in, or just as likely the stone moved to a less distressing point. I slept fine all night and have had only twinges all day. Not sure at this point if I’m in for more misery from the little bugger before it’s gone. Think I’d better hit the ibuprofen again.
It’s been gray all day, although warm. We’ve had high winds, though, which are stripping the last of the colorful leaves off the tree branches. Too many bare limbs against the dark clouds now—and all those months ahead of barren trees and colorless landscapes.
Yeah, I’m not feeling inspired. Yet, my word counter tells me I’ve already written more than 400 words. It’s all whining, true, but when the battle is to get words on the blank page, any output counts.
So, rather than a writing prompt, this nudge is more of a reminder: Just get the words down, even if all you’re doing is recounting the reasons you don’t feel like writing. Sometimes what seem to be useless words click against each other like chips of flint and strike sparks that roar into something brighter and warmer. At the very least you keep your writing muscles limber. And when you’re participating in a challenge like NaBloPoMo, you get another daily blog post under your belt.