The Discombobulated Morning

She woke up at 6:45 a.m., like she does every weekday, to get her offspring up and off to school. It never ceases to amaze her that they can sleep through the blaring screaming of their alarm clocks, but will hear her call them, roll over and say, “Good Morning Mom, can I have 5 more minutes?”

She walks out to the kitchen and starts the coffee perking or pours herself a glass of her beloved treat, ice-cold Pepsi. The day’s drink depends on what is on the agenda. Coffee for sitting back and relaxing and working from home, or Pepsi when that extra “jolt” is needed to get her up and moving about fast because there are appointments to keep, chores to do, errands to run, deliveries to make.

Today is a Pepsi day.

She curls up in her armchair, turns her tablet on, and checks the day’s calendar to plan her day out. She flips on “Good Morning America” and watches her favorite anchors as they inform her of everything newsworthy going on in the world. The day just cannot begin without “Good Morning America.”

15 minutes go by, and the quiet from the back of the house is a warning. Her youngest has fallen back to sleep and now has only 15 minutes to get up, get dressed, get ready and zip out the door for school. She gently wakes him again and tells him he needs to get moving or he’ll be late.

He sleepily replies, “It’s only a half day today, Mom. Let me stay home, please?”

As tempting a request as that is (going back to sleep and skipping school means she gets to go back to sleep for an hour or two as well) she knows the teacher has a special treat in store for them today, and he would be extremely upset if he found out later that he missed out. So request denied, and off to school he goes – just barely catching the bus in time.

She isn’t connecting today though for some reason. Something just isn’t there, just isn’t right. She can’t put her finger on it though. She’s worried about all the bills that need to be paid, all the work that is looming in front of her for the next week, wondering how she’s going to get it all done. No, that’s not it either.

She feels discombobulated, but unable to put her finger on just what it is that is making her feel that way. Other than the nagging muscle spasms and aches in her left shoulder, which are now occurring daily and something which she is learning to just deal with until she can make an appointment to see the doctor (mental note to add that to the to do list), she feels fine. So she’s not ill.

She’s felt this discontent, this ‘wanting’ something but not quite knowing what the ‘want’ was, only once before in her life. She wanted a college degree, so she went back to school to obtain the degree that she ‘thought’ she wanted more than anything. It was nothing that she envisioned it to be.

There has been another ‘want’ in the back of her mind for several months, but she hasn’t done anything about it. She keeps telling herself, ‘I don’t have the time, there are too many other things that need to be done first.’ As usual, she is putting what she wants to do on hold to take care of the needs of her family. Only one of the reasons if she’s honest with herself. The main reason is, she doesn’t know where to begin.

She knows what she wants to do. She knows the outcome that she wants to happen. She just doesn’t know how to get from point A to point B. So, as with most things that trouble her that she needs to work out, she sits down at the computer and she writes.

She tells her story from the eye’s of an onlooker. It gives her some clarity to help her finally ‘see’ what it is that is nagging at her subconscious. It gives her a chance to work it out in her head, while she works out how to put it on the screen for her readers.

So today, she has come to realize that it is time for her to begin her next journey. To think about what it is she doesn’t understand, and to begin researching those issues and questions online and at the library. She understands that perhaps all she needs to do, is simply what she is doing right now – just sit down and write – and let the words flow through her fingertips, and worry about putting it all together to make sense another day.

The writing is easy for her, when she just lets it flow. The topic is what is giving her trouble. So, for now, there will be no topic. Just a collection of paragraphs containing thoughts, feelings, stories and emotions until such a time when there is enough to create what she wants to create.

And, for now, that is enough for her.

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