Writing has been replaced with exercise. Consider that. Up until eleven days ago any exercise I got happened in the morning before work. The alarm would go off at six or six thirty and I would stumble downstairs to the elliptical machine and sweat myself senseless for either 34 or 46 minutes (depending on whether or not I rolled out of bed at 6). This happened more or less four times a week and was mostly working for me. More or less in a half assed kind of way.
Then we pulled the plug on my daughter's living arrangements, bringing her home full time with me. This was a big change for Cletus Marie and she immediately put herself on a diet in an attempt to get to bikini season in one piece. Cletus Marie is not obese but she's not tiny either. At the same time I realized I needed to talk to Cletus on a pretty much regular basis, one: to keep her grounded and two: to give her a chance to talk.
So we started walking, Cletus Marie and I. We walk every evening when I get home. Sometimes we have to take the little stinker with us because there's no one to watch her but sometimes No Mans is home and we can walk alone. Either way, it's always an adventure, twice around the circle with two girls or one.
I have noticed that no matter how bad or tired or what have you I feel when I get home, I always feel better and clearer headed after a brisk two mile walk. I have also noticed that Cletus Marie is not her usual cranky self. That could have something to do with not being yelled at on a daily basis but probably has a lot to do with the endorphins dumped into her system like clockwork every evening sometime between 6:30 and 8.
I have noticed that I have absolutely no desire to write once I've had my evening walkies.
I have noticed that I can't even bring myself to go near the blasted computer once I've had my evening walkies.
Maybe this is healthy?
Which brings me to the urge to write. What has us write when we write? Why am I writing now in the morning after I've had a three mile run? Why don't I want to write in the evening? I can't even say there's nothing there in the morning but what I can say is that the energy isn't there.
Energy: the capacity for vigorous activity; available power
an adequate or abundant amount of such power
a feeling of tension caused or seeming to by an excess of such power
In the morning the psychic energy is fresh and is enhanced by the physical exertion that dumps endorphins into a rested system.
In the evening the psychic energy that drives writing is drained by the physical exertion that dumps endorphins into an already exhausted system.
And since I'm not willing to give up the walkies with Cletus Marie, or even push them any later into the evening and dinner hour, I will have to succumb to the realities of physics and carve out another writing slot.
Just keep adding stuff to the plate and the plate gets bigger. Right?