Carol Bergman

Though I have planned a full writing day—no teaching, no evening plans, all my students’ manuscripts read for the workshop on Wednesday—I could not get down to work this morning. Instead, I answered emails and, even worse, a voice mail message from a talkative friend. There was a time and a time of day when such a phone conversation would have pleased me greatly, but this morning it did not. And it was all my own fault. I could have called my kind and generous friend at the end of the day and not in the midst of my struggle to get going. And then, once on the phone, I could hardly concentrate on the stories she was spinning—stories I would normally enjoy—because I was so distracted and annoyed with myself for having made the call and not paying attention, which every good friend deserves. I had the phone on speaker so I could continue answering emails—multitasking!!—paying even less attention to her stories or the emails I was writing. And the phone was resting on my cuneiform stone, a real cuneiform stone, a reminder that there have been writers for millennia. When it was given to me by an expert in antiquities, I was told to use it, not to display it. I looked at the cuneiform stone and lost the thread of my friend’s story and the email I was writing.

So there it is, a full morning’s work.

Now I am writing this blog but also watching the time. I’ll have to catch a swim in the pool during the window designated for serious lap swimmers. I’ve got a few minutes before I have to leave the house. And I am hungry and must eat before I swim. Then chores on the way home and, hopefully, some energy to return to the computer and continue with the research and journal notes about my new murder mystery before I do the laundry.