The Happy Grouch

More and more often I find myself opening with "How have I not written in ___ months?" And here we are, 8 months later. The space of time between entries grows and grows... Every time I talk to my shrink (I use that term with fondness), she says- "Have you written lately?" I sheepishly shake my head, and I realize that my answer is almost always the same. "No, and you know what- when I woke up this morning, I intended to! But then I sat at my computer and scrolled Facebook, Zillow, Indeed..." I feel like I am most lucid in the first moments of waking. I lay in bed organizing and analyzing my dreams. Then I emotionally wrestle all of the things that plague me, as they are usually in the forefront of my mind when my eyes open. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, push the dog out of the way while trying to find my slippers in the dark (because I'm always up before sunrise), and I say out loud- I'm going to write. I do the morning zombie shuffle