Cracking the egg.

I’m surprised the mirror image of the word “backspace” hasn’t imprinted itself on my right ring finger.  I skip words and letters all the time.  I spell stuff wrong. I go too fast. I read and reread my sentences, backspace, retype, backspace, retype, and backspace again.  I just deleted the first two sentences of this post.

Distractions.  I love them because they are more entertaining than writing. Oh, wait, there’s a bird at the feeder. My thumb joint is achy and I tell myself I have arthritis. Backspace, backspace, backspace. Why have I taken such a hiatus from meal planning?  I’m turning my family into fridge foragers.  Stop. What a silly sentence.   Go away, Distractions.

I am notorious in my own head for putting off starting a piece of writing. Yet, when I finally get started, there’s always this teeny tiny turning point, like when I first crack an egg. There’s that first tap, the one that yields a hairline opening.  The egg isn’t apart yet, but there’s that barely discernible crack that tells me I have to keep going with my task until what’s inside is outside.

So yes, getting started writing could be compared to the first tap of the eggshell.  And then  things get a little silly and I am now thinking, what a silly post.  Maybe it’s too silly to publish.  Do I scramble or fry the egg?  Or do I add it to my brownie mix? Right now, typing the words “brownie mix” reminded me that I committed to making brownies for a church event tomorrow and we have no brownie mix.   Distractions.

But check this out. I did not even realize that thirty minutes just passed while I was doing this.  I went backspace crazy, wrote a somewhat ridiculous analogy, and got distracted one hundred times, but  I was definitely lost in it, and I loooooove that feeling.

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