The last few days, or really week or so, have been the type that probably motivated the storyline for "Thelma & Louise" for me.  Those weeks that are frustrating at best and throw yourself down, tear inducing, eat a pound of candy corn (or chocolate) at their worst.  In the midst of all this, there has been little to no time for me to write, which I knew would exacerbate my restlessness and frustration, but to what extent I have to admit, even I was surprised.

I gave up early in this stretch of time, trying to snatch a snippet of time to write.  I found that sitting down, only to be interuppted, was as frustrating as not writing at all.  Half formed sentences, sketches, and ideas, littered my workspace and my mind, wreaking their own kind of havoc on my already admittedly poor attitude.  I know, I know, a good positive attitude is half the battle, but I wasn't in the mood to attempt it.  The more time elasped, the more ansty I got, even losing my normally pleasant demeanor to snap at those around me and I began to wonder if writing was even for me at all.  It didn't occur to me, initially that in the midst of all this the best thing for me to do was actually take the time to write.

Today, finally, the thought did occur to me, to just let other things go, take even five minutes, and write one sentence.  I actually had twenty minutes so, deciding to split it between my two writing projects, worked on a sketch for my children's book and wrote a paragraph in my new novel.  It wasn't a tremendous amount of progress, but it was something.  More importantly, that tiny bit of writing and creativity changed me so completely, so instantly, it was like flipping a switch inside me.  Suddenly I felt rejuvenated, alive, sparkling, and refreshed.  My attitude is better and I can feel the passion for writing swiftly in my soul.  Funny, how it can just take a moment, a few mere minutes, of writing, to make my life and myself better.  Just a tiny bit that does so very much.  What a joy that is indeed!