Jeff Schwartz woke up thinking the only way he could have slept worse was if someone had beaten him with a bat while he lay in bed.
There wasn’t any blood on the pillows or sheets nor anything else to indicate an intruder so he wondered if he had taken a psychic beating, assuming such things existed.
There was a note on his calendar that said today Pesha number three would contact him. He didn’t really know three, he knew two and the third was someone whose name he had heard but never spoken with.
Technically that meant he only knew two and the one that was supposed to call was really the only one he had a real conversation with or any sort of relationship with.
They hadn’t spoken in quite some time and he wasn’t sure why but blamed it on her grumpy older uncle Morton.
He didn’t know if that was accurate but didn’t care because when you slept so poorly you wonder if you were beaten by angry angels or blood thirsty demons facts are less important.
That damn woman had once said no one had kissed her better than he had which made him think they ought to do it again and that grumpy uncle was getting in the way.
Never a time where I don’t have fragments of fiction floating around with things that really happened inside my head.
Told a few people about that and was asked if I am in touch with reality and laughed because in this modern age that could be viewed as being subjective.
Tell someone you did or didn’t get vaccinated or who you voted for in the last presidential election or two and there is a good chance that let you know if you are sane or missing a few screws.
Today is my uncle’s birthday and if he were still around we’d celebrate it as number 77, but he is not so it is the 27th year he has missed it.
Still surreal to me that he fell just short of turning 50 and now he has been gone for more than half as long as he was around.
Went to bed kind of early for me, was barely 12:30 and woke up around 5:30 AM, none-to-pleased to be awake but unable to go back to sleep.
Not sure why I woke up, thought I remember some of the dreams I had and threw down some of the fragments of fiction on the page to see if I could make them dance for me,
Turns out I could and I did though you have seen the tiniest portion.
If I had to guess at what made me get up I’d say it is the kids because there is stuff going on with both of them and they are bothered by it.
I am too, but it is not my battle to fight and I have to let them manage it. Truth is I think they have got this under as much control as anyone could given the circumstances and I am proud of both.
They are working as a team and I can see they really have got this but I understand it is uncomfortable because it is new to them.
And because the people they are dealing with are obnoxious, but both are part of life and these are good life lessons for them to learn now.
It isn’t hard solely because they find it bothersome but also because my nature is such that I am inclined to go looking for those that mess with my kids.
Still it is good to see them look out for each other and see them start to understand their individual and collective strengths.
Every day I come closer to writing with even less concern about what I share upon these pages because if you really want to write you have to set yourself free.
Yet there are boundaries in blogging and stories that you don’t have sole ownership to. Stories that you may find heartwarming and soul filling that will not be viewed as such by others.
So you have to measure your will and your need to write against those of others. It makes me wonder how many writers fight similar battles and how much fiction is really reality with the names changed and a few other details adjusted.
I know of one real world example in which this unquestionably happened. I knew the author and recognized many of those in the book.
It left me feeling a bit uncomfortable as I wasn’t sure where to stand. Was it an expression of grief, frustration and or anger or something else.
Did it delve too deep into other issues and expose them to those who didn’t deserve to know more?
Well that is hard to say because again we reach an area of subjectivity and what is comfortable or uncomfortable for others is not always the same.
Suppose I’ll hit the treadmill and mull some of this over while I go nowhere fast while hoping the caloric intake of holiday feasts is positively impacted.