okay, so I've been writing like crazy lately, and I am starting to feel a little bit like jack nicholson in the shining . . .
all work and no play . . .
I can't seem to stop myself, though, the computer draws me to it, it teases me, the word count piling numbers on top of numbers and leaping by great bounds, each day a new challenge to see how many words I can add to the total . . .
and there's my notebook, full of notes, jottings, thoughts, experiences, lists, all waiting to be poured into a computer file in some cohesive way . . .
I can't keep myself from opening the word file and plugging away, as much as it's turning me into some kind of a psychotic zombie.
I don't cook, I barely clean, I resist showering, I only do laundry because layering smelly clothes on top of a smelly body is gross, I don't call anyone, I barely pay attention to my children . . .
okay, I'm exaggerating. but I'm unwell.
I've been on this crazy writing binge for three weeks now, and biking buddy bob has been keeping tabs on me. last week he asked if I'd reached Jack Nicholson stage yet, and I laughingly said oh no, of course not.
this morning, I said I fear I'm there.
his prescription (he is a physician, you know): take 2 days off, and read the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
eek! two days off???
I asked, can I just watch the movie?
sure, he said. then confirmed the 2-day part of the prescription.
I came home from class, made coffee, read a so-so book for a while, took a short nap, and kept myself away from the computer completely. had more coffee, toasted half a bagel and applied peanut butter, ate . . .
and turned the computer on.
checked email, blogger stats, played a coldplay song . . .
searched for the Hitchhiker movie, found it on youtube, started watching it . . .
then opened my word file.
argh! I cannot keep myself from it.
I am trying to. something has got to give, because I am a little nuts, and can't even think of anything to post here that has even the remotest connection to cycling.
unless you wanted to be clever and decide that---given everything I've shared about myself regarding cycling, and now about writing---I might be a bit confused about whether or not I have an addictive personality, and that I might be living in a state of denial.
whatever. I call it passion.
and thank God we're not snowed in.
in a monstrous hotel in remote colorado.
with a little boy on a tricycle . . .