Mornings are getting harder and harder for me it seems.

I get up and  am the equivalent of an old Ford truck.  My engine is cold.  I am all steel and rusty, but mainly just cold.  My thoughts are low and depressing.

Optimism is lurking in their somewhere but it too is just waking up.  Slowly gathering various good thought twigs and branches to add to the fire.  So in the meantime the darkness of low, murky and sad thoughts reign.

My attempts to cheer myself up, start my engines prematurely, rub two sticks together usually don’t work.  It is a slow process.  A few sparks of suggestions come out of the brain.  “Well, once you take a bath you will feel better.  Look at your phone maybe there will be some good news or at least something to think about.”

So I look at my phone.  I ignore the news. I plunge into the social medias.  Metaphorically throwing open the door and yelling, “Ya got anything for me today?”  Most of the time the response is, “Nah, check back later.”

So I take a bath, I get out and check the weather report.  Get the kids up and dressed, breakfasted, and off to school.  I try blasting on the music as I drive home which sometimes works.

I get home, clean the kitchen, make breakfast, and get some coffee.  I sit down in front of the computer to write and start the day.  I am a little better.  My engines are now warm and ready to start.  The fire is now burning brightly and will be good for perhaps about 2 hours, prime writing time.

Ah the life of a writer.