Sometimes, I sit all day in that desk staring at a computer trying so hard to will myself to enter more monotonous data that I simply cannot do it. My mind is racing with all of the interesting and creative things I could be doing. I sit all day longing to write and dream and do. Often though, my creativity wanes. After over an hour of sitting in traffic just trying to get home, I finally check the mail, grab something to eat and plop down, maybe even ready myself to write. Instead I read and analyze all of the creativity the rest of the world managed to produce and then find myself without anything more to add.
I hate those days. All of that pent up creativity and enthusiasm lost somewhere between my desk and my home. Those things should not be so far away, in the literal or metaphorical sense. Because I have a lot of things to write and say. I have a lot of places to dream about visiting and later experience firsthand. People to love. Life to live.
