Another episode of Thursday thoughts,

on the heels of what may or may not be a cold.

It’s one of those tickley bothers,

the kind where you think any minute

you’re about to get deathly ill with some virus,

and may never recover,

except it never really arrives- at least, not so far.

I’m three days into feeling like I’m going to die

in 30 minutes,

but I’m still standing.

And so the work week went on as planned.

Continuing learning,

full and regular activities as scheduled.

And every day I yearned for the chance

to sit down and edit my book,

Or write,

Or spend every waking moment

on something that is fast surpassing

the term hobby,

and entering into territory

best described in terms like

“passion”

and

“obsession”

Looking at four more manuscripts,

wondering how long

to get them out.

Wondering what I could do

with one solid week free to write

and edit to my heart’s content.

Would I progress?

Or would I stagnate?

Is part of the thrill because I can’t,

or is it the way my life is turning?

I reminisce about my youth,

recalling similar times in my teens

where the power and magic

of the written word captured me,

And I stayed up far too late

in a land I still dream of.

Maybe this weekend

I’ll get the chance

to fulfill some of the dreams

I’ve been carrying around

In the pocket next to my heart.