Hang My Hat

(March 27, 2008)

I wish I could work up the gumption to make sure to write every day. Whatever happened to that? I used to do that. Daily freewriting was de rigeur for awhile, but at some point it seemed like something in me clicked into neutral and my very cells rebelled against any kind of routine. I don't have a routine for anything. Every single one of my days is different. Do you realize I don't even lock the locks on my apartment door in the same order each day? I don't have any "one" place I put my watch when I take it off at night. I don't have a ring dish.

I hang my hats on any of a number of different hooks I've installed, some wrought iron, some bejeweled, some plain ceramic. Or sometimes I just hang my hat on the back of a chair.

Is it connected? My haphazard accessory mismanagement and my spotty writing schedule? Hm...weird thought. If I can make myself establish a routine I could be more prolific? You think?

Mostly it's when I'm walking home from work, in my own head space, that I think of a hundred greatly compelling essay topics and I can't wait to jet home and write about my world.

Then I get home, Joe starts talking about the latest article in Tape Op or describing in intricate detail how he synthesized the sound he just created.

When my laptop finally warms up, I settle in...and write about my hat hooks.

Compelling.