Struggling to break free from a toxic work life, 

I've forgotten what a quiet moment sounds like and feels like.

Staring at the window and watching the sunrise,

Today I find myself sitting at my work station alone.

Alas! this moment of silence reminds me of my core.

Not all is lost, just at a standpoint in between crossroads.

The next steps are beginning to clear.

582 Hits

Feeling Fine

After slumping yesterday, I’m restored and re-invigorated today. Some, I think, is due to a terrific writing session yesterday afternoon, the sort of session where my typing can’t keep up with the speed of the story being ‘dictated’ to me.


And some is work. Whereas yesterday, I went in 'bleah' and experienced connectivity issues that further deterred my work initiative, today I went in and –

Frozen computer. Blue screen, no, not the dreaded BSOD, the Blue Screen of Death to those who remember, no, but another one I encounter that I can’t track down. It’s a recurring Tuesday issue and seems to be associated either with my VPN Client and its updating process or the world computing project. This is a project to connect idle computers – with permission – to create a massive chained supercomputer and see what can be done with its computing power.

One of those two things seem to cause my computer grief. My only option on encountering it is a hard boot and recovery. Only took fifteen minutes today but it took down the spreadsheets I’d opened, leaving me grumbling, where was I? as I sipped my first cup of coffee, listened to a conference call and stared out the window at the drizzle, wondering where the day was and the outside temperature. But last night I’d decided I needed to apply myself and work today, so after giving the computer my best glower of irritation, I got on with it.

So now I’m deep into the writing flow, that terrific, fantastic place where my mind screams, “Keep up, keep up,” and I scramble to write and capture and edit and revise, eager to get into the next chapter, the next scenes, and the next, and the next, and the next. Of course, I must rush to chase the muse, which puts me on edge but it’s a high, an exhilarating adventure in being. I hang on and type and write like crazy, though I feel myself falling behind, recalling, what was that scene between Mother Nature and Death I envisioned while flipping through Brain on Fire? What was it that came to me as I watched House of Cards?

A little thought, a little coffee, a little more coffee, and a trickle begins, gaining momentum and volume, then bursting upon me – Yes, now I remember.

And partly, I think writing through about my work frustrations and weariness helped me expunge that poison and helped me find my balance again.


Time to write like crazy, at least one more day.

1165 Hits
1 Comment

Latest Blogs

A friend recently reminded me of the power in kindness when she asked, what makes an urban area kind? My first thought was, how can an object or mass...
The other evening, my wife and I went for a stroll along the Thames Path  not far from London's Chelsea Harbour and stopped to sit awhile in a  deligh...
“I was inspired by the marvelous example of Giacometti, the great sculptor. He always said that his dream was to do a bust so small that it could ente...
Over the years, I’ve written about some of life’s certainties — birth, death, time and change. You can guarantee we will all experience those things. ...

Latest Comments

Nicholas Mackey A life in trees
08 August 2020
Thank you, Rosy for reading and commenting.
Stephen Evans The Lessons of Gurnemanz
06 August 2020
Interesting -thank you! have to see if I can find those books. The Osiris story is in my Emerson p...
Rosy Cole The Lessons of Gurnemanz
06 August 2020
I read this today in Eliot's notes on The Wasteland:Not only the title, but the plan and a good deal...
Monika Schott PhD Expectations
03 August 2020
Rosy, I'm so touched by your beautiful description of my writing, it's never been described in that ...
Rosy Cole A life in trees
02 August 2020
Trees have such awesome vigour and staying power. There's a silver birch, fifty or sixty feet high, ...