Today, I got my first recliner. I have been reluctant to get one, as they are representative of a kind of giving up. Think about it, the most famous brand of recliner is called what?, a La-z-boy. I have been a burn-the-candle-on-three-ends kinda girl for most of my life. Yet, with the exit of alcohol and the partay-girl ushers in a new mindset, and with this change of attitude comes a pretty white recliner of which I type this post.
So you see, not so lazy. This chair is getting me off the sofa. It’s a seat at the table of writing. A comfortable lure for the dupah to get to work, and I need the motivation. I have so many ideas that enter my head. I research ad nauseum and have lot’s of information in my head, but when it comes to writing I will do anything I can to not get started.
But get started, I must.
This is my calling. I am to do it. Once I get started it’s much easier to get in the rhythm. I’m still working on what I want to say, find my voice, and get to the heart of the matter – which I will.
Until I am able to get it out of my head and on to the page, I will type what I can here.
Probably in this pretty, white recliner.
A new page.


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