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COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS
I have a little devil on one shoulder these days, and a little angel on the other.

The devil whispers in my ear and plays with my hair and strokes the back of my neck. He says, "Don't bother tonight, don't write. Just go to bed. You're tired."

The angel reaches around and thumps him a good one.

"Ow!" he exclaims, "Hey! That hurt!"

She gives him a look and then pats me soothingly. "Don't listen to him," she says, "Go write. You'll feel better."

Often I can't decide who to listen to. Sometimes I listen to both and dither for what seems an endless time, until there is no more time and I have to go to bed anyway.

When you make the decision to cut back, give things up, try and say no, you don't always anticipate just what might fall by the wayside.

"Your shoulders look tense," whispers the devil. "They'd probably feel better if you were lying down with a book."

"Actually, he's right," sighs the angel, wiping the corner of her halo with the edge of her robe. I shoot her a look and keep typing.

When I'm driving to work in the mornings, through the cone of fog that cups the hill and the bowl of fog that fills the valley, I look for things to remember. Things to write about. Things to tell you. By the time I get home, after a full day of concentrating, the fog seems to have moved inwards and taken up residence in my own internal hills and valleys. I can't sit down right then and write them out because there are still things to do. There are always things to do.

"You miss it so much when you don't write. There are people looking for you. They're patient but they won't wait around forever," says the angel. She's been sitting too close to the devil, I think. He's rubbing off.

"Ha!" he chimes in. "That's right! There's always someone else to read."

"Would you two shut up? I can't concentrate," I swear at them and stomp my fingers down harder on the keys. Backspace, backspace, erase, correct.

They hop down and walk around on the top of the desk, kicking at the piles of papers. "You don't have time to write," says the devil. "Look at all this stuff you haven't finished yet!" My head droops a bit as I shift my eyes to look at him without stopping typing.

"Some of that belongs to her husband," the angel answers.

"Yeah," I say, and then I stick my tongue out behind his back. It makes me feel better for a moment, then it makes me giggle.

I get up and walk away and leave them there. They're too small to catch up if I move quickly.

***

The Very Happiest of Happy Birthday Wishes to galestorm!

Really Great Writing Out There Right Now: Arrow
 busy
mood: busy
music: Tim Curry—Simplicity


Comments

I am probably one of your 100 plus plus fans that you have out there. I always feel so excited when I read your journal, at the same time I truly respect that you have so much on your plate, and you have no reason to feel guilty if you cannot write something EVERY day. Don´t let those two on your shoulder play havoc with your mind, follow your heart!! You know deep inside what takes preference in your day and what has to just wait for another day.

You're hilarious Zirdy! Me *LURVE* reading your posts!


A proper devil and angel, with different reasons would have suggested lighter fluid and a naked flame be taken to the pile of papers.


To give you more time to write. Or to loll in a hot bath with a nice chilled alcoholic drink...

or perhaps it is only my devil and angel who are pyromaniacs ;)

Thank you!

Great post Liz! I can really relate to your dilemna. It is easy enough to carve out time for our husbands and kids and volunteer activities but God forbid we want time for ourselves. I think every mother struggles with finding time for herself.

(Anonymous)

I hope you tell both the devil and the angel to buzz off. You should post when you want to, and yes we'll wait a long, long time. (I waited for Chez Miscarriage for over a month, and she's not even my cyber-friend. Of course, then I dropped her like a hot potato :O))

Woman! You do what you need to do - write, don't write, of course if I write I always do feel better, but sometimes I just need my bed and a book. In fact, most of the time I need that.

So tell that angel/devil combo to go bother someone else, or smash them with a very large frying pan. If you're not up to it, just SEND them my way, okay?

But above all else, take some time, and feed your soul, and I, for one, will always be here.

Shame on the Devil. He's the one that makes me go to bed early the entire last week. If it wasn't for him, I would have been caught up on LJ a long time ago, and using it again.

Odd, I can't read my reply.

I had a hard time reading my reply, thanks to the icon. I meant to say that he made me go to bed early every night last week. If it wasn't for him, I would have been caught up, and actually using it actively again.

I have a brief fifteen minutes or so to do some catch-up reading on my friends page and I started here. Sweet! Hee-larious too!
I love your description of the dilemma. It sounds so familiar.
Love and kisses to ya. {and to your devil and your angel}

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