I had to fast for an ultrasound this morning, so afterward I treated myself to breakfast at a nearby diner. I pulled out my journal to write while I sipped my coffee and waited for my plate of eggs, but the words wouldn't come. It's been over a month since I did morning pages, and I've grown rusty.
Thankfully I have these nightly blog posts to keep me tethered to a writing practice, but even these posts don't give me a lot of pleasure lately. fMaybe I'm just in a fallow spell. Maybe my well has run dry. Maybe these little health issues have left me drained.
I'm taking Monday off to help my husband with a minor outpatient surgery. The four-year-old will be at preschool and my mom has offered to watch the baby. Maybe I'll try to rest along with him. Maybe I'll watch some bad TV or just start up at the ceiling, thinking of nothing in particular. Sometimes only in silence do the words come.