Today is my last day to pack/move stuff from the old house and haul it to "the witch's hut". I brought over another load late last night and out of sheer exhaustion, left the un-opened boxes stacked in the hallway.
Bright and early (well, not so bright, 'cause it was 5am), I heard a noise. Yup. In ONE of the 6 large boxes in my hallway, an alarm clock was going off.
Can you imagine it?
Bleary-eyed, I'm searching for an exacto knife to start the hunt 'cause I can't go back to sleep with that going off, but since I've turned the light on, the dog is now up and doing her beagle-dance around the kitchen 'cause she wants to be let out on the grass and have her breakfast, the cat thinks I'm playing a game of stacking and unstacking boxes for him to climb on and keeps trying to rub his face up against the hand that's holding the blade... and I'm almost beside myself 'cause I'm just so tired, every muscle in my body feels weak (including those in my hand) and I can't seem to cut the tape properly, but I'm committed now and I just have to keep going.
Yup, that's really how I started my day.
And that's also what it feels like when inspiration hits and you just gotta write, despite everything else going on around you.
So, I've got a house full of boxes, the other house that still needs to be packed up, then properly cleaned up for the new owners, two pets who are still leery and skittish about the new house and all the new/old/ancient smells and sounds, and yet I want to ignore everything and just sit down on my computer and immerse myself in writing. I want to do everything possible to find that alarm clock in the box 'cause the incessant ringing of new ideas is driving me insane.
What about you? How do you deal with that driving urge to write that always seems to come at the most inconvenient time?
